


Diphylleia grayi

by yuhee



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4788341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuhee/pseuds/yuhee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When Kaizuka Inaho, the Death Angel, was assigned to collect this one soul who went by the name of Slaine Troyard, things didn't go exactly as he had thought it would. </i>
</p><p>(Diphylleia grayi: a flower with white petals that turns beautifully transparent upon contact with water; also known as skeleton flower)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Death angels, were like any angels, but their job was to collect souls;_
> 
> _Souls, who were destined to die._

Death angels, were like any angels, but their job was to collect souls— souls, who were destined to die.

Wings as beautiful and majestic as any of your average angel, wings of theirs were huge and colored in deep coal black. They dragged the floor as they walked on surface, filled with dignified glory. Similar to any other mystical-beings, Death Angels had their own commitments to carry; they did not ask questions, nor did they contain feelings such of skepticism— they were alike to submissive servants that devotedly obeyed the law. No questions were asked of ‘whys’ or ‘hows’— it was an obligation to heed, execute, accomplish. A system that every each of them would pursue.

Well, ruling out one.

He was Inaho; though he was like any other— he performed his tasks spectacularly when bestowed. One of the many stoic ones, in fact— he held no sentiments regarding his actions; nothing such of curiosity, and that had made him excellent. 

So it was indeed a wonder why the heavens have suddenly bestowed a problematic burden upon his shoulders one day. 

He was on his usual errands; this time, he had flown to a hospital near Jirano, the state of Kiel— a mother after labor, and a baby born from said mother’s womb. It would be his last task of the day; he had to collect these two souls, and he would be done for the evening. 

He had landed straight at the front doors of the Labor and Delivery room. There were shouts emitting from the doors behind, and Inaho walked himself right through it— he instantly saw the mother on the bed, and she shouted profanities whilst gripping the nurses’ arms. Very much later, the baby was born— though there were no expectant crying sounds being heard. The room was dead quiet, silent— and the people in the room was slowly coming into an alarming state.

Inaho, now so very accustomed to the common atmosphere with numerous situations, walked to the mother lying on the bed, impassively. She was evidently exhausted, and no longer held the ability to comprehend her surroundings; her heartbeat gradually slowed down— and alas, her consciousness was lost.

Inaho lifted up his right hand at the fact— and in accordance with the movement, a bright light started shining through the mother’s chest. The light was not visible to mortal beings, and it was the sign of a soul being slowly taken out of its vessel. He folded his eyes to close, and uttered quiet words under his breath; the name, and age of demise— the time, and the prayers. Eventually, the bright-lighted soul was drawn out of the mother’s chest.

He lifted his eyes open. Moving his unoccupied hand near his lips, he blew light air to it— and a small translucent bead gradually formed at the tip of his fingers. Skillfully, he transferred the sacred soul into the bead itself— the bead now shone brightly in lime color, no longer transparent.

The room turned chaotic; the piercing sound of the mother’s heart monitor signalling her death. The people in the room was awfully disarrayed, and Inaho ignored the ruckus that became due to his actions. He brought the glowing bead into his mouth, and swallowed it down his throat— ensuring its safety in his body. He turned towards his next victim, held by the arms of a nurse— the lady seemed to be in panic; a new-born baby not letting out a cry after birth, that was certainly fine. But the baby in her arms, had given absolutely no indication of respiratory. 

Inaho walked over to the nurse that held his second soul, and halted before the unmoving baby— the infant’s heart still beat, but it was faint— and in a slow manner, he brought up his hand again; he was about to do what he had done to its mother. His eyes closed shut, and lips formed words yet another time. 

When his eyes re-opened, the expectant light was there. Though it was smaller in its radiance, barely appearing through the baby’s chest. It had made Inaho frown; a weak light, with the soul taking a longer time than needed for the extraction process to occur.

There was a sudden awareness that came to Inaho— something was manifestly wrong. His presumption was proven right when the light from the baby’s chest abruptly vanished.

Eyes of the infant was opening, slightly.

Inaho’s own eyes had widened at the occurrence, and he felt the power emitted through his hand getting cut off. The infant now blinked— peered at the death angel directly in the eye.

Inaho had never encountered a case like this— nor he could guarantee the other death angels had, as well. There was absolutely not a chance a mortal could have been able to defy a soul extraction— especially not one from a newly-born child. 

Time was gradually expiring; the nurse that held the infant would soon come to realize it was awake, well breathing— and Inaho further narrowed his eyes. There was now an urgency to quickly finish up his duty. He shut his eyes again in haste, and lifted up his hand once more. He tried to bring forward his focus with more force, reciting the same words in a smooth flow— and he felt his power flowing out of his palm another time.

It was instantly disrupted, with the feeling of skin wrapped around his index finger.

Inaho grew rigid from shock. His slowly opened his eyes, and the sight before him was inconceivable. The infant had its tiny hand around his index finger— the mortal had the ability to  _touch_  him. There was a small smile, and so it was able to  _perceive_ him, too.

The nurse had turned her body away before Inaho could react to the situation— too appalled to do so. Time now moved forward, and the woman brought the baby further away from his reach. Inaho stood frozen from his spot for a short while, until finally he got a hold of himself. He took a step back, and let his coal black wings unfurl— scurrying off the building, and flying up the sky in rapid speed— towards the portal that would eventually lead him to the immortal world.

A complication had definitely arisen on Earth— the lone existence of the infant was it. 

And he had to inform the Council about this,  _now_.

 

 

TBC

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is complete fictional. It is not based on the bible or whatsoever; this is all made up in my head. But of course, there are several fictional stories that I’ve read on the internet that have inspired me to write this story, so if after reading this you’ve found familiarities or so, that’s the reason why. As you can also see, it is not finished. I might have plans to continue the story, which explains the ‘TBC’ I wrote at the end.
> 
> Some extras below if you'd like to know more about the story:
> 
> \- I'd like to think the angels in this fic are able to control time, to be able to get their work done faster in the human world. They are not able to stop time though, that's one thing.
> 
> \- All angels in this fic are not seeable by mortal beings— meaning, humans. They are not visible and not able to be touched.
> 
> \- Their wings are not retractable whatsoever. Them being 'humans' or feigning as humans is not possible.
> 
> \- Their eyesight is completely incredible. They are able to see through buildings from far away and etc.
> 
> \- I guess they have good sense of hearing too.
> 
> \- Death angels only known power is the ability to take out souls from its vessels. There is an existence of the book of Death, and once a name is written on it, the Leader of the Death Angels are to inform the minor death angels to deliver its soul to the immortal world, bringing the sacred soul to the Head of the Death Angels, where it decides whether the soul will be sent to heaven, or hell. But they do have another hidden power, which is to be able to give life back to something that's dead, or another example, which is to be able to heal a terrible wound. This means they are able to bring a dead back to life, which is forbidden, and also takes all the life out of an Death Angel in order to do so, meaning the Death Angel will cease to exist once they bring a fully dead being, back to life. And so, it is advised that they do not use these powers, and their jobs remains in extracting souls, instead.
> 
> \- As their powers are reduced to only able to extract souls, death angels do have the ability to forcefully take out the life of something that's living, whether or not the names are existing in the book of Death. Though in turn, their souls come out as dull and gray, black smoke emitting out of it, showing the signs of the evil intentions of the Death Angel itself when extracting the soul. This shows that the soul was never destined to be extracted out of its vessel, and the Death Angel that has done the process will be heavily punished by the Head of the Death Angels.
> 
> \- There are bad effects to the Death Angels when a healing process is done by them, as that is not what they are entitled to do.
> 
> Comments and feedbacks are much appreciated, as it also at the same time motivates me to continue the story. Thanks for reading.


	2. Commence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A Death Angel and a human being. How else tragic could it be?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh i'm finally done with this! Took me days to finish, but i'm really glad i got to finish this before my classes starts again. Thank you to all those who gave feedbacks at the prequel chapter. I am glad you all wanted to read the continuation of the story, so here you go!
> 
> also: there might be some grammar mistakes, or some actual stupid mistakes which i am too lazy to check and correct. so, sorry in advance!
> 
> songs that have helped me get into the feel during the sad parts;  
> Kim Jonghyun - End of a day  
> Yoon Hyunsang - When would it be  
> Kim Jonghyun - Diphylleia grayi
> 
> (only listen to these when it starts getting sad okay guys! HAHA)

Flying through the portal and into the immortal world, Inaho doesn’t stop his wings from flying. Angels who settle below tilt their heads at the lone angel flying up in a hurried motion, confused. He ignores them, and continues to fly up higher, reaching the golden gates— where the council settles behind— and stops in front of the white-winged gatekeeper that was guarding said gate, settling his wings down.

“Kaizuka,” the gatekeeper says in greeting— though in a questioning tone, as he frowns, wondering why the Death Angel was up here.

“I have important news to report to the council,” Inaho replies to his unspoken question, and the gatekeeper stares. He then nods, and opens the gates for the other to pass through. As Inaho was ready to unfold his wings once more, the gatekeeper speaks to him.

“I hope it’s not something bad,” the gatekeeper says to him in a joking manner, but Inaho ignores him; he’s not fully sure what he should answer that back with.

‘ _Actually, it is. That’s why I’m here_ ’ doesn’t sound all too mannerly.

He continues to fly up— can’t be bothered to use the stairs below him— and lands in front of a huge, brown-coloured door. His wings folds up, and he brings his right hand out— his palm facing the front of the door, and light rays starts emitting out of his palm. The door responds to the gesture, and moves, opening as it makes a loud creaking noise; and the three council comes to sight before him.

“Ah, Kaizuka. I knew it was you. What brings you here?” Magbaredge Darzana, Head of the Death Angel Council, asked in a poised demeanour. She sat in the middle, and at her sides were two other council members; Mizusaki Kaoru, and Marito Koichiro.

“Kaizuka Inaho, Soul Carrier Death Angel, here to report an unusual occurrence during a soul conveyance,” Inaho says in reply, not forgetting his formalities, and Marito sighs when he hears it.

“How many times have we asked you to lay off the formalities, Kaizuka Junior?” he says, but still waves his hand for Inaho to proceed with his words.

“At evening, 6 o’clock at 12 minutes time, I am informed to collect two souls from the hospital of Jirano, Kiel. One’s a mother in labour, and the other’s a new-born baby— from said mother’s womb. The mother was successfully extracted— but the new-born baby, was not.”

All three of the council members furrows their eyebrows at that.

“Go on,” Magbaredge says, her eyes narrowed.

Inaho continues, “The extraction process for the mother went smoothly and fine. But there were… problems, regarding to the new-born baby’s. There were three unusual occurrences. First, while in the process of extracting the soul out of its chest, the soul took a much longer time than needed to be extracted, seeing as it was a new-born baby. Second, while in the process of extracting, somehow the baby was able to defy its extraction—”

“What?” Marito interrupts, and Mizusaki immediately shushes him.

“Quiet, Sir Marito. Let the boy speak.”

Inaho resumes, “It was able to defy its extraction. While I was extracting, my power was cut off, and the light emitting through its chest disappeared. Last of all— I have no idea why, or how it was possible— it was— if I’m not mistaken— looking at me, and had the ability to make physical contact with me. It was able to see me, and touch me.”

The room goes silent at that. Magbaredge was still staring at him, and Mizusaki seems to blink at him in shock. Marito, on the other hand, was frowning— squinting his eyes, and tilting his head.

“This isn’t a joke, is it, Kaizuka Junior?” Marito then asks, and the two other council members turn their heads to look at the spoken man— faces written in slight disbelief.

“I’m afraid it isn’t, Sir Marito. This isn’t as funny as a joke should be,” Inaho replies back calmly, and Marito nods his head in response.

“Yeah, I figured. You’re not the type to make jokes,” he says in reply, and Mizusaki shakes her head in second-hand embarrassment, heaving a sigh.

Focusing back onto the subject, Magbaredge speaks.

“As you were extracting its soul, the light emitting through its chest was pure white, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Inaho answers firmly.

“That means it has nothing to do with evil, then. That’s good,” Magbaredge says, but continues to frown, folding her fingers in front of her face, “But this is a weird occurrence and if not mistaken, has never happened before. You said the baby was able to see you and touch you, am I right?”

“Yes,” Inaho says again. Magbaredge nods, and sits there for a short while— thinking. She finally unfolds her fingers, and straightens her back.

“Mizusaki, bring out the book of Death and the book of Life.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Mizusaki says, and stands up, walking to the back where deep brown-coloured cabinets were plastered onto the walls everywhere. Her heels clacks onto the floor as she walks, and she spreads her wings as she flies up to a certain cabinet— opening it and taking a black book and white book out while at it.

As she lands back onto the ground again and walks back to the table, she settles back down onto her seat and hands both of the books to Magbaredge— who opens them immediately, flipping through the pages.

While she was looking, she speaks to the soul carrier Death Angel standing in front of her, “Kaizuka, what was its name?”

“Slaine Troyard,” Inaho replies, and frowns at the foreign name rolling off his tongue.

“6 o’clock at 12 minutes time, am I correct?” Magbaredge then asks, and Inaho nods his head in reply, “Yes.”

After some more flipping through at the pages, Magbaredge finally stops, and closes both of the books. She gestures the books to Mizusaki— an order for her to put the books back to place, Mizusaki following quickly— and turns her head to look at Inaho.

“His name was not written in the book of Death,” Magbaredge affirms, and just as Inaho was about to protest, opening his mouth, Magbaredge continues, “Neither in the book of Life.”

Mouth slowly closing back at those words, Inaho only sends a blank stare towards the woman in front of him. Both Marito’s and Mizusaki’s eyes widens at the declaration.

“What? That does not make sense!” Marito exclaims, and Magbaredge closes her eyes at the loud reaction.

“Yes, Sir Marito. Please quiet down and let me explain.”

Letting out a sigh, she opens her eyes back, fixing her gaze onto Inaho, “The books never makes mistakes, Kaizuka. If he is neither in the book of Death nor in the book of Life, this shows that he is neither living, nor dead. He lies in between. However, the book does not show he exists in the human world, in which he does, so this shows a huge problem.”

Inaho blinks, “This could show that he is… immortal?”

“That could have been the reason, seeing that he could see you _and_ touch you, but… immortal beings don’t come out from a mortal being’s womb.”

Inaho nods at that in understanding, but finally brings out the question.

“So… in conclusion?”

Magbaredge takes in a breath, and exhales, “In conclusion, this is, in fact, a problem. And we can’t ignore it, since we’ve perceived it. His existence is what you can say… a glitch. He is human, but his name is not recorded in the book of Life. So, there are two possibilities. One is that his name will appear on the book of Death again— and that is your job to extract the soul when it does— or the other, in which his name will, out of the blue, appear in the book of Life. If neither happens, it is your job to keep an eye on him until one of them does, and report back here immediately if anything weird or abnormal occurs. We will likewise report to you if his name appears in either of the books, so you can be alert on when to extract the soul, or be lifted up from your job.”

Inaho’s eyes squints a little after taking in her words.

“Could you rephrase that in an ‘order’ wise? I’m not sure if I’m comprehending your words correctly.”

Magbaredge straightens her back at that, and lets out a smile, though it immediately disappears as she starts speaking in a stern tone.

“Kaizuka Inaho, Soul Carrier Death Angel, you were assigned to Slaine Troyard, a special case in which his soul was unable to be extracted due to the fact that his name was not in both the book of Death and Life. You are now responsible to guard him at all times, and keep an eye on him— to ensure nothing out of the ordinary happens. Taking into account that he is able to see, and touch you, it is your full responsibility to make sure he doesn’t spread rumours of the existence of Death Angels and what not. You will have the right to eliminate the soul if you must, if it brings harm to you or to the sacred life of human beings. But remember, as you forcefully pull out a soul from its vessel— a soul that was not destined to die— your true intentions are plastered onto the soul itself. If there is even a hint of darkness, you _will_ be heavily punished. That is the end of your order. Kaizuka, dismissed.”

Inaho blinks, and makes a small grunting sound. He continues to speak to the Head Council even though he had been dismissed.

“You want me to guard him? …Like a Guardian Angel?”

Magbaredge nods her head once in affirmation, and lets out a small smile, “Yes. Like a Guardian Angel.”

If Inaho’s face wasn’t always blank and emotionless, Magbaredge would’ve said he looked like he was wearing a face full of disbelief.

“Why not assign this to someone who’s an actual Guardian Angel? Death Angels aren’t suitable for tasks like this,” Inaho declares, and Magbaredge's smile grows a tad bit wider.

“Guardian Angels don’t extract souls. You do, Kaizuka Junior,” Marito answers back nonchalantly, not looking up from the book he was reading— a hand on his face as he flips through pages.

“So are there any other questions, Kaizuka? If none, you are dismissed, and ordered to immediately head over to the mortal world, to start with your new duty,” Magbaredge says, and Inaho could do nothing but only bow his head in reply.

“There are no questions. I have yet to drop the souls I’ve collected to the Leader of the Death Angels, so I will head to the mortal world after I’ve done so,” he says, and lifts his head back up, “Thank you for your time, Ma’am Magbaredge, Ma’am Mizusaki, and Sir Marito. I will be heading off,” he finishes, and unfolds his coal black wings— about to take off flight, when suddenly Magbaredge speaks to him.

“All the best, Kaizuka,” Magbaredge says, and Inaho pauses. At that, he bows his head yet another time, not saying anything back, and lifts off from the ground— flying his way down the stairs to head back out of the golden gates. The door of the council room slowly closes back at that, and Magbaredge wears another small smile.

“Kaizuka… He’s irritated,” Magbaredge declares, and Marito turns his head to look at her.

“He is?” Marito responds— face still resting on his hand— and turns his attention back to his book, “Can’t tell. That boy always wears the same look on his face. Like a dead fish.”

“I don’t think ‘dead fish’ is the right term for it, Sir Marito…” Magbaredge concludes, and looks at the spoken man— the man only shrugs in response. Heaving a sigh, she closes her eyes, and looks back at the closed door— where the young Death Angel was standing before.

“Kaizuka’s a young angel with great potential. Pity that he was born with black wings, otherwise he would have been an excellent archangel,” Magbaredge proclaims, and Marito nods his head in agreement.

“But what makes you think he would, though?” Marito replies, shifting his hand from his face to scratch his head, “We’ve proposed the Leader of Death Angels spot for him once— a higher rank than an average Soul Carrier— but he refused, didn’t he? Says his sister deserves it more than he does,” Marito continues, and Magbaredge smiles at that.

“That’s because his sister was involved,” Magbaredge replies, but pauses, “Though, if we proposed him a Council spot, he’d refuse too.”

Marito makes a hum in agreement.

“I would understand that. This job is boring.”

Magbaredge sighs and shakes her head at those words, “That’s not what I meant,” she says, but gives up, turning her attention back to the door in front of her.

Somehow, Magbaredge has a gut feeling that the problem wasn’t resolved— at least not that easily— but she buries the feeling down, and hopes that the young Death Angel would be able to keep it under control.

“I put my trust on you, Kaizuka,” Magbaredge murmurs, and turns her gaze away from the door, focusing on the many work she still has yet to finish left on her table.

༺༒༻

Flying in to the place where all Death Angels are to collect their tasks and drop their assigned souls, Inaho lands on the ground soundlessly and folds up his wings— walking towards the Leader of the Death Angels, who was sitting behind a huge desk— and not so subtlety, sleeping. Inaho stops in front of the said angel, and lets out a small smile at the sight; she had her arms folded on the table, her head resting on them— and she snored not quite in a way a proper lady would.

“Yuki-nee.”

As he says that, the woman immediately jolts awake— her back straightens as she looks around alarmingly, and stops when she realizes who was standing in front of her.

“Nao!”

Inaho smiles at the response.

“Yuki-nee. You shouldn’t be sleeping while you’re working.”

At that, the smile on Yuki’s face shortly disappears— replaced with a scowl, and she sends her little brother a pout, “Give me a break, will you. There’s no one here, is there?”

Inaho only blinks in response, and Yuki heaves a sigh at the usual blank face only her little brother wears.

“You’re here to drop your assigned souls, right? Give me a sec,” Yuki then says, and turns around, grabbing a machine what they call a ‘soul suction’— A machine that extracts all the soul-contained beads out of a Death Angel’s body from its mouth. It doesn’t hurt, and the job’s done quite fast, but Inaho personally did not like the feeling of something being forced out of his throat. Well, it’s not like there’s any other way.

“Okay Nao, bring your face forward,” Yuki instructs, and Inaho does just that, his sister situating the suction around his mouth.

“Alright, you can open your mouth now,” Yuki informs, and Inaho opens his mouth at that.

The beads were immediately sucked out from his body; coming out of his mouth, and in turn, rattling sounds being heard at the other side— showing the numerous beads successfully extracted. As the process was going on, Yuki brings out the book of Death— another copy of it— and flips through the pages, checking the souls Inaho was assigned to. When the procedure was done, Yuki closes the book back, and turns to check the machine.

She turns her head to her little brother and smiles, “No signs of darkness, good job Nao,” she praises, and takes the bowl filled with soul-contained beads out of the machine. After doing so though, she frowns.

“Nao… you’re supposed to collect 58 souls,” she says, and slowly turns her gaze away from the bowl to look at her little brother.

“There’s only 57 here.”

Inaho blinks, and opens his mouth.

“Ah, I guess I have to explain it to you after all,” he makes to say, and at that Yuki hastily puts the bowl aside, her eyes widening as she stands up alarmingly— shoving her body forward.

“Nao! What does that mean? Did you do something prohibited!?” Yuki whispers frantically under her breath, her face filled with worry. Inaho blinks at the misconception.

“No, Yuki-nee,” Inaho replies, and blinks again, “It’s a long story. I got back from the Council, actually,” Inaho explains calmly, but he doesn’t realize his sister seems to panic even more after hearing those words.

“What!? You went to the Council!? What on earth did you do!?” Yuki prods even more while shoving her face forward this time. Inaho moves his head backwards at that, just so their faces don’t clash together.

“I didn’t do anything, Yuki-nee. Please calm down and let me clarify.”

Slowly closing her mouth at that, Yuki gulps and takes a step backwards, finally plopping back down onto her chair.

“Okay. I’m calm. Explain, please,” Yuki affirms, and Inaho starts speaking a moment later, after he’s sure his sister had calmed down.

“The missing soul became a glitch in the mortal world. I was not able to extract its soul, so I reported this issue to the Council. And at that, as he was my assigned soul, Ma’am Magbaredge gave me a new duty to watch over the soul and ensure nothing suspicious happens. Since his name does not exist in both the book of Life and Death, I will only be lifted from this job once his name appears in either of the books,” Inaho says, and remembers to add, “This means I won’t be collecting souls for a while.”

“…” 

“This means you won’t be here for a while, right?” Yuki then asks, and at that, Inaho nods his head once.

“Yes. I won’t be seeing you for a while, Yuki-nee.”

Yuki’s face slowly contorts into a frown, and she purses her lips, “Well, this is stupid. Why couldn’t they assign a guardian angel for this?”

“Apparently, guardian angels don’t extract souls, Yuki-nee,” Inaho responds, and he honestly meant it in an empathetic way— as he had suggested the same thing to the council, too— but somehow, it ended up sounding like he was correcting his sister’s stupidity, and so Yuki glares at her little brother for that.

“Yes, I know that,” Yuki declares, but the irritation on her face shortly disappears, her eyes turning sad as the news processes in her head.

“… So you won’t be around for a while, huh?” Yuki makes to say, and goes to rest her face on her hand— her lips slowly forming a small pout, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Inaho smiles, “I’m gonna miss you too, Yuki-nee.”

At that, Yuki scrunches up her nose, “You saying that in your monotone voice, it really takes out all the meaning in it.”

Inaho tilts his head in response, “What do you mean? I sincerely mean what I say,” Inaho asserts, and Yuki waves her hand then, shaking her head.

“Forget it, forget it… So, when do you depart?” she asks, and Inaho replies.

“Right after this, actually.”

Yuki pauses, blinks, and suddenly stands up— grabbing Inaho by the shoulders, and quickly pulling him into a hug— surprising him at the sudden gesture. The hug was not all that comfortable, as they had a table between them, but Inaho still tried to hug his sister back— a small smile forming on his lips.

“Stupid Nao! You should’ve told me that in the beginning, you idiot!” Yuki exclaims, and pulls back, her hands now both on her little brother’s face.

“Make sure to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t do anything rash or irrational— well knowing you, I’m sure you won’t. But sometimes your rational thinking is irrational to me, so still—” before Yuki got to finish, Inaho interrupts her— covering the hands on his face with his own.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you in the beginning, Yuki-nee,” Inaho says, and brings both of her hands down— still holding onto her hands, and he continues to speak, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything ridiculous or illogical. But like you said, my rational thinking might be irrational to you, so there’s no helping it, is there?” he reasons, but still gives a slight smile to his sister, “But I promise I won’t do anything reckless. If I do, I’ll have my reasons,” and he lets go of her hands. Yuki frowns at those words, but a smile was slowly forming on her lips, too.

She then heaves a sigh, “Alright, alright. I trust you. Now leave, before I cry all over your chest or something,” Yuki mutters the second part, and Inaho sends a fond smile at that.

Unfolding his wings, his cool black wings spreads out widely— a sign of him about to soar off to the sky— and he speaks to his sister one last time before taking off.

“Then I’ll see you soon, Yuki-nee.”

And at that— with great force— his wings flap downwards once, and his feet lifts up high off the ground. His body rotates gracefully at the movement, and his wings continues to bring his body away from the place.

For some reason, Yuki had always been jealous of her little brother’s wings. They would look like any average black-coloured wings to others, but to Yuki, they were big and strong, agile and refined. It was as if the wings portrays a strong armour for her own little brother.

Or maybe, the wings itself represents him.

Yuki’s lips slowly forms into a tender smile at the thought.

She really does hope it stays that way, forever.

༺༒༻

Landing his feet onto the familiar hospital ground— as usual, it is filled with humans. Rush whispers and crying sounds are heard everywhere in the building— millions of things happening all at once— and the foreign smell only the hospital holds rushes in his nose. Inaho ignores it, and walks his way around the hospital, stopping in front of a door where ‘Maternity Ward’ is written above. The door opens just as he was about to take a step in, and a doctor walks out of the said room— a man and a woman following along, walking right pass his invisible figure. The door closes back at that, and as Inaho was about to walk right through it, he stops at the voice of the doctor behind him.

“Slaine Troyard’s adoption documents will be sent to you, then. He will be ready to be sent home in maybe 2 to 3 days. The hospital will give you a call. Yet again, our sincere apologies for not being able to save your sister, Mr. Saazbaum. We give our sincere condolences,” as the doctor says that, he bows a 90 degrees bow to the said couple, and the said man— named Mr. Saazbaum— gestures for the doctor to stand straight up again. They continued to talk some more, but Inaho couldn’t be further bothered with their conversation, and walks right through the door of the maternity ward, looking for the baby with the familiar blue-green eyes.

It was easy to spot him, as the said baby was already looking at him, smiling— the only mortal being that was able to see him. Inaho walks towards the infant crib, where the baby— Slaine Troyard, the glitch— lies, and blinks as his body hovers over him. The baby seems to be reaching out for something then, looking behind him, and smiling excitedly. When Inaho turns to look at the direction where the baby had his gaze on, he realizes that the baby was staring and reaching out for his wings. He turns to look back at the said baby, and makes his right wing stretch out slowly— the last feather at the tip of his wing slowly moving towards the infant in the crib.

The baby laughs, as it slowly approaches him. He suddenly tries to get a hold of the so called black-feathered wing— a daring gesture— and Inaho stops his movements when he sees it. Taking advantage of the situation, the baby grabs, and successfully, had his fingers wrapped around the feathery texture; the soft texture making the baby’s smile disappear, awe and amazement replacing it instead.

Inaho blinks, and withdraws his wing away, and the awe on the baby’s face was immediately cut-short; his face contorts as if he was about to break into a cry, due to the missing grasp he had on the Death Angel’s wing before. Inaho straightens his back, and folds his wings up properly again— and with that, the baby starts to wail loudly; Inaho only blinks in return.

“Human beings are such stubborn and annoying creatures,” Inaho says to no one, and a nurse suddenly comes towards the said crib, wondering why the baby had started crying all of a sudden— and that, the nurse will never know.

He moves away to the side, not liking the feeling of humans constantly passing through his invisible figure, and rests his body on a wall— his wings getting pressed up behind him, and folds his arms— letting out a sigh.

This is going to be boring for a while.

༺༒༻

The second time Inaho shows himself in front of Slaine Troyard, it was when he was 2.

It was a bad idea, apparently.

Inaho was on the adoptive parent’s roof, sitting on the roof and watching his assigned soul below him with guarding eyes. He was playing with his so called ‘baby toys’ in what they call a living room; the adoptive father’s out at work, and the adoptive mother’s in the bathroom— and, nothing unusual was happening.

Inaho closes his eyes, and turns his head to look up at the sky. _When will this be done with_ , he wonders. _I miss Yuki-nee_ , he thinks, but the thought immediately gets interrupted when a cry breaks out all of a sudden below him.

Brows furrowing, he turns his eyes to look down— his eyes working in a way a mortal being would never— and sees through the roof to see what was happening; but he slowly gets alarmed as he couldn’t find the soul anywhere. He makes to stand up, and spreads his wings— creating pressure as he brings himself down from the roof slowly; his body passing through the house like a ghost. As he lands on the floor, he searches around, and realizes the baby was at the backyard.

Inaho breathes a sigh of relief— because honestly, he had panicked for a second.

The baby was still crying loudly, and as Inaho uses his eyes to see what had made him cry to that extent— ah, a scratch on the knee.

 _Well, it’s most probably because you thought it was a good idea to run around the house with those tiny little legs of yours_ , Inaho thinks to himself, slight amusement on his face, and walks nearer towards the said baby. As Inaho sharpens his sense of hearing, the sound of the shower and the adoptive mother’s singing could still be heard from the bathroom above. _Too bad, your mother’s still in the bathroom_ , Inaho thinks to himself yet again, as he looks at the crying baby’s back from the kitchen— still sobbing loud as ever, sitting on the backyard’s grass as he continuously wipes his snot and tears.

Ignoring the scene, Inaho turns around— his wings slowly stretching out, about to fly back up and settle himself back onto the roof, when the baby seems to wail even louder after that— asking for attention, asking for comfort.

Usually, Inaho would ignore this. As if he would ever give his concern to mere humans who only live in selfishness and arrogance.

But really, try having your ears being extra sensitive, and a stubborn baby wailing loudly like a siren right near you.

That’s right. It’s annoying.

At that, Inaho closes his eyes in slight annoyance, and his wings slowly folds back up again. He opens back his eyes, and turns his head around to look at the baby— still crying, and voice gradually turning hoarse after each wailing breath. Inaho blinks and fully turns his body around this time, walking towards the opened sliding door that leads to the backyard, and stops right before stepping out— his feet only inches away from the backyard’s grass.

The baby took sight of the Death Angel, and at the distraction, he had stopped crying, subsiding into sniffles. The baby continues staring at him, as if waiting for the Death Angel to do something— like pick him up, pat him in the back, and send him coos and its okays; it was completely absurd. Inaho felt like he could read the baby’s mind.

“I’m not doing that for you,” Inaho speaks to the child, as if it could understand him— and maybe it did, because the baby’s face slowly contorts into a face as if it would break into another cry again. And it did— and this time, the cry was way louder than any of the others before. Inaho lets out a sigh.

Suddenly an idea appears in his head, and Inaho blinks. He finally makes to take a step forward— his feet touching the foreign feel of grass— and continues to walk towards the baby even closer. The baby was still crying, but he had his gaze fixed onto the Death Angel walking closer to him. The baby gradually stops crying however, when suddenly something spreads out widely behind the said angel— blocking the sunlight behind, and in turn, a shadow looming over his face, body, and the grass around him. It seems like the world got darker— only the bright burgundy eyes of the creature in front of him glowing through the darkness— and at that, frightened, the baby wails into a scream.

Inaho, wings spread out— thinking the baby would be in awe and wonderment like how he had been back in the hospital and _would stop crying_ — became befuddled at the unexpected reaction. Drawing his wings back immediately, the baby was crying even more now, and honestly, Inaho no longer knows what to do. He felt like he was only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why do I even bother,” Inaho sighs then, and turns his body around to walk away, but the baby cries a tad bit louder when he does so.

Pausing, Inaho turns around to look at the baby sitting on the grass; crying with snot and tears everywhere on his face, looking up at him as he cries, cries, and cries.

“I don’t understand human beings,” Inaho declares, but then bends down to his knees to closely inspect the baby’s face, “Why do your actions speak differently than your true intentions?” Inaho asks at no one, and as if the baby could comprehend his words, his crying slowly settles down, only sniffling at the random stranger observing his face— as if there’s an answer to his question somewhere if he searched longer. At such close proximity, the baby recklessly flings himself at the angel in front of him— his tiny arms wrapping around the creature’s neck— and it catches the other by surprise.

Inaho freezes on his spot, his eyes slightly widening; foreign human scent filling up his nostrils everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Before his mind could whirl even further, his sense of hearing triggered— the creaking of stairs reaching into his eardrums— and _ah_ , the mother’s done bathing. Before she could come to the backyard and see her adoptive son having his arms around nothing but air, Inaho pulls away from the tight embrace, and hastily takes a few steps back. Right after that, as predicted, the mother walks right out to the backyard.

“Oh, Slaine! What did you do to your knee?” the mother coos worriedly, and immediately jogs her way to her adoptive son, scooping him right in her arms, “Alright come on, let’s get you patched up.”

As the mother turns around and walks her way back into the house, Inaho stares at the retreating figure— but moreover, at the baby she was carrying in her arms. The baby was staring intently back at him, too— face and nose still red from the excessive crying he had done, his chin tucked onto his adoptive mother’s shoulder. As the mother reaches the inside of the house, she turns around and goes to close the transparent sliding door, and as she does so, the baby twists his body around too, making sure he maintains eye contact with the creature standing outside. When the mother was about to pull the curtains close— before it completely blocks away the sight the baby has on the Death Angel outside— the baby lets out a sudden big bright smile, and at that, the curtains shut close right in front of him.

Though Inaho could still see through the curtains with his peculiar eyes, he blinks and looks elsewhere; looks at the plants that was placed at the corners of the backyard, looks at the grass underneath his feet.

That smile took him off by surprise. It came with no warning, no reason whatsoever.

That hug, too.

Slaine Troyard was like a difficult jigsaw puzzle— he was hard to figure out. Or maybe, a challenging riddle that has yet been solved. His actions seems randomized, but at the same time not. Inaho hates to admit it, but it does intrigue him. _Are all human beings like that?_ he now wonders.

He still doesn’t understand human beings.

But maybe this might get a little interesting.

༺༒༻

Inaho is always there, whether if Slaine Troyard is at school, home, or anywhere else in the world. He watches his every movement, because that’s what he was informed to do. And honestly, he had thought he would be bored out of his mind doing so— that’s what he had thought back then when he had first received the task at the Council— but he wasn’t. In fact, he was really, really intrigued.

Apparently, when Slaine Troyard is nervous, he bites his lips and continuously touches his hands.

Apparently, when Slaine Troyard is happy, his eyes smile along with his lips, too.

And apparently, when Slaine Troyard is sad, he doesn’t show it to the world.

That, Inaho knows, because when Slaine Troyard was 8 years old, both of his adoptive parents died in a car accident.

Slaine Troyard’s new adoptive parent then became Mr. Cruhteo. He was a friend of Mr. Saazbaum— who had wrote his name on his will: ‘If ever, my wife and I dies, Cruhteo, my dear friend, will be the one who will be the legal guardian of my sister’s child.’

The judge approved of that, and so, Slaine Troyard— from the orphanage— was sent to Mr. Cruhteo’s house.

But Inaho sees this though, that Cruhteo wasn’t as loving as Slaine Troyard’s previous adoptive parents once was. Cruhteo never once smiled at him, and if Inaho dare say, he treats him as if he was just another person living in the house. Slaine Troyard seems to realize this too, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

 _He’s the kind that keeps everything to himself_ , Inaho thinks to himself.

Slaine Troyard never cried after he heard the news of the death of his adoptive parents. He would either be in a daze, or he wears a fake smile as he continuously tries to ensure the people around him that he was okay. Inaho knows that this is a lie though, because when Slaine Troyard arrived in his new home— Mr. Cruhteo’s home— when he was settling down in his new bedroom, he locks the door, and cries his heart out— silently. Inaho was watching the whole time, his wings twitches as he fights the urge to go and comfort the other, but Inaho knows he can’t.

After the backyard incident, Slaine Troyard seems to have completely forgotten about the existence of the Death Angel; shrugging it off as a dream. If Inaho appeared to Slaine Troyard then when he was crying, Inaho knows things wouldn’t have ended well. He would either be screaming for his new adoptive parent, or he’d pass out from shock due to the lack of oxygen from crying— his appearance giving the final blow. It wasn’t really a smart idea to appear in front of him now onwards, too. Unlike when Slaine Troyard was just a baby, who didn’t have a care in the world and would move on, he is now growing, and would remember each and every bits of the incidents he encounters. That’d be trouble if it happens, and that’s the least what Inaho wants at the moment.

So Inaho decides, he will never again show himself in front of Slaine Troyard, ever.

Unless if he has to.

༺༒༻

And that day comes, in the course of time, when Slaine Troyard was 15.

It was a normal school day, and that being said, Slaine Troyard was at school— in class, and writing down the notes that his teacher had written on the board. Inaho, as usual, was on the specific building’s roof watching him— and really, he found it a nuisance to watch his assigned soul this way. If only Slaine Troyard didn’t have the ability to see him, then he’d be able to guard him just outside the class— but no, reality just doesn’t like fitting with Kaizuka Inaho’s preferences.

Right when Inaho closes his eyes— sighing at the thought— a sudden explosion was heard at the building below him, and it vibrates at the impact, slightly. Opening his eyes back in alarm, he brings his eyes and scans below him, taking sight of a kitchen room— where students practice their cooking skills, Inaho guesses— two rooms in front of the class Slaine Troyard was in, on fire. It seemed like someone had turned on the gas, and forgot to turn them off.

The school bell rings for the entire time at every building— signalling a fire has broken out— and that all people in the school grounds needs to get out of there, fast. The teacher in Slaine Troyard’s class realizes this, and calls all the students in the class not to panic; they quickly got their butts moving then, thankful the stairs was right behind them.

Inaho makes sure to keep an eye on his assigned soul. He was the last to get out of the class, and he suddenly takes sight of him stopping— his head turned around. Inaho frowns as he sees it, and all of a sudden, his assigned soul did something preposterous.

༺༒༻

Slaine jogs out of his class— the last student remaining as he had been busy packing his things into his bag— and heads over to the stairs. He stops his movements however, when he heard a small crying noise coming from his back.

He turns his head around— flame and fire meeting his sight— and the crying noise seems to come more clear than ever.

 _There’s a student stuck in a fire?_ Slaine thinks alarmingly, and immediately turns his body around, running into the fire without a second thought. He coughs as he does, smoke everywhere, and tries his best to shout— cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Where are you!?” Slaine shouts to the sobbing noise, and feels his chest burn as he breathes in the smoke. He waves his hand around the smoke to make his vision clearer, and sees a student in the middle of the kitchen room— sitting on the floor and hugging her knees as she continues to cry.

Without hesitation, Slaine runs into the room, fire and flame burning everywhere, and he runs towards the girl— still sobbing.

“Come on, let’s go quickly,” Slaine tries his best to speak and coughs, grabbing the girl’s arm, and the girl could do nothing but only comply— letting the foreign person drag her by the arm, both of them running towards the exit. As they got nearer though, Slaine takes sight of the almost collapsing piece of wood above the door, and just when it was about to fall off and hit the ground, Slaine pushes the girl ahead of him. The wood then falls down with a loud thud, and the fire reacts wildly at it— spreading even more, and blocking the exit. The girl that was now safely outside whimpers as she witnesses the scene before her, and Slaine only tries his best to smile for the other so she doesn’t succumbs to panic.

“It’s alright! Quickly get out of here and go find help!” Slaine insists the girl, and the girl looks at him, then nods— quickly scrambling up to her feet and running towards the stairs. Slaine lets out a breath of relief at that, and feels his vision going blur for a moment— a sudden dizziness coming onto him. He loses balance and falls to the ground then; his breathing now ragged.

 _Is this how I die?_ Slaine wonders, and closes his eyes; his vision was now blurry anyway, so what for keeping his eyes open.

Right when he was about to give in to unconsciousness, he suddenly feels arms wrapping around his body. He was being carried, and then he was moving fast. The heat that he had felt in the kitchen room suddenly disappears, and he realizes the person carrying him in his arms had jumped out of the window. _What is this person thinking?_ Slaine thinks, his mind still foggy, and his breathing still ragged. When he tries his best to clear his vision for a while, he sees nothing but the sky, and… black wings.

 _Wings?_ Slaine thinks, confused, and before he could comprehend the situation a little bit more, the person carrying him in his arms had already made to put him on a rocky ground. Slaine looks up at the person now standing beside him, but it was no use, everything was blurry. As he tries to make his vision clear, it was still blurry, but he could see it. A man, dressed in all black, with wings folded at the back. Before he could take in the person’s face, the man spreads his wings out, and lifts off the ground, disappearing into the sky.

Slaine could hear the callings of someone from faraway— probably one of the teachers, or students— but he couldn’t take in the things around him anymore, and finally, gave in to the darkness.

༺༒༻

After he had left Slaine Troyard on the school’s parking lot ground, a teacher immediately took sight of him, and carried the already unconscious boy out of the school with his back— taking him to the paramedics who were already waiting outside of the school’s building, ready to be at service. Inaho stood faraway, and when the paramedics brought Slaine Troyard’s body into the ambulance, and drove off, Inaho unfolds his wings, and follows.

Slaine Troyard would jump into a fire for a random stranger without a single hesitation.

He was so much more troubling than Inaho had first thought.

༺༒༻

He had the same recurring dream again, but this time, more vivid as ever. The dream of him being at his old house’ backyard, where his previous adoptive parents were still alive at the time.

He was sitting on the grass, a wound on his knee, and he was crying. Someone suddenly appears in front of him, and he was wearing nothing but black; wings folded up behind him. The strange man bends his knees down, and right when he was about to speak, the dream ends there.

Slaine have had this dream multiple times now. But this time, everything in the dream was clearer. The grass, the sunlight, and the man with his wings— dark, coal wings. And he thinks back of the strange man that had saved him from the fire.

Slaine stares and blinks at the hospital ceiling above him.

“So it wasn’t a dream,” Slaine says to himself quietly then, and closes his eyes.

༺༒༻

Inaho hears it, and turns his head to look below him, focusing his eyes on Slaine Troyard— his body lying on the hospital bed. When he confirms that Slaine Troyard’s eyes were closed, he immediately spreads his wings, and slowly flies down from the hospital roof— his body passing through multiple rooms and floors.

He finally lands on the ground of Slaine Troyard’s hospital room, and he was still sleeping soundly— the machine beeping once in a while beside him.

Inaho walks towards the lying figure on the bed, and stops when he reaches at his side. He stares at the serene sleeping face lying on the bed— wearing a medical respirator— and he then turns his eyes towards the window; a full moon shining brightly in the night sky.

Inaho heaves a small sigh.

༺༒༻

Slaine frowns when he hears it. He opens his eyes slowly to see who was sighing, because  _I clearly did not see anyone in the room just now_ , and freezes from shock when he takes sight of the figure standing next to him.

There he was, in all of his glory, the guy from his dream— with his dark coal wings; as well as the guy who had saved him from the fire. He was wearing a black turtle neck and pants, and _ah, that’s what he was wearing in my dream, too_ , Slaine recalls.

His wings are coal black, and they were folded— just like how they were in his dream. The man was looking out at the hospital window, staring at the bright full moon shining through it, and as if he had sensed someone staring at him, the man turns his head, and Slaine immediately closes back his eyes— feigning sleep.

His heart was beating fast as ever, and it literally shows on the heart monitor beside him— quick beeping sounds being heard as it tries to follow the owner’s beating heart.

_God damn hospital._

Slaine really hopes the weird man with black-feathered wings doesn’t find out that he was awake the whole time, and his hopes comes true, when he hears flapping of wings once, twice, and then the room turns completely silent.

Slaine opens his eyes slowly again, and the room was exactly how it was when he had first woken up— the figure standing beside his bed no longer there. Slaine swallows, and blinks constantly.

 _Oh, god_ , Slaine thinks to himself, _it was never a dream_.

༺༒༻

After a day of staying in the hospital, Cruhteo finally came and pick his adoptive son up. Inaho dislikes Cruhteo to his core for that, but honestly, who was he to say something about it?

Slaine Troyard was discharged right away, and everything continued on like normal. But, if Inaho wasn’t mistaken, Slaine Troyard was behaving strangely than usual. He’d keep biting his nails when sitting on his study table in his room, as if thinking about something extremely hard, and then he’d shake his head multiple times, violently knocking his head with his hand. Then he goes to shove his face to his pillow, shouting in agony.

Inaho would think Slaine Troyard was on his period, but then he remembers that Slaine Troyard was a male.

And when night came, it shows him why he’s been acting that way.

Right after Slaine Troyard was done with his dinner— spent with his adoptive father, quietly eating, of course— he goes to his bedroom and shuts off the light, going to bed. After two hours or so, Inaho sees him getting up from his bed again, and he sees him opening his bedroom door slowly, peeking out. Inaho frowns at that, and tilts his head slightly at the sight of the other _tiptoe-ing_ across his _own_ house. When he finally reaches the front door, he gently, and slowly, unlocks the door— making sure he doesn’t make much noise— and heads outside, gently closing the door back. Slaine Troyard was out of the house now, and Inaho continues to frown at this. _What is he doing?_

Slaine Troyard answers his unspoken question however, when he suddenly speaks out loudly, though at the same time tries to keep in mind not to speak too loudly, as he didn’t want to wake his adoptive father inside the house.

“Uh,” he starts, and licks his lips, “I know… you are… somewhere, around me,” he says, and slightly winces, “I’m sorry. That came out weird, uh,” he takes a deep breath, and exhales.

He tries again, “I’ve always… thought it was just a dream. The one at the backyard. But it wasn’t, apparently. And I also thought I was hallucinating when you saved me from the fire, but, again, I wasn’t. I can confirm that, too, because,” he licks his lips again, and swallows, “I saw you, back in the hospital room. And I’m sorry for pretending I was asleep, I just… ugh,” he pauses, and lets out a breath, covering his face with his hand, “I need answers… so could you please… show yourself in front of me? I swear I won’t scream,” he then declares, but there was only silence returning his words, and he heaves a sigh a moment later.

“I’m just talking to myself aren’t I?” he questions himself, and then gives up. Putting down the hand he had on his face, he turns his body around to head back into the house— walking towards the door— when all of a sudden Inaho makes to fly down in front of him; startling him and making him take a step back in alarm.

They were both now staring at each other eye-to-eye. Slaine Troyard gapes at the man standing in front of him, his eyes wide as ever, and Inaho only has his usual blank stare on his face. The other man keeps diverting his eyes from Inaho’s face, to his wings, and then back to Inaho’s face. He gulps then, and finally brings up the courage to speak.

“Hi.”

Inaho only blinks in return.

“Hello to you too, Slaine Troyard. What answers do you need?” Inaho straight-forwardly asks, and Slaine only blinks continuously as he takes in the other’s words.

“You know my name,” Slaine Troyard says in a matter-of-fact, and Inaho nods.

“Yes, I indeed do, Slaine Troyard.”

Slaine Troyard’s face then contorts into a grimace when he hears it again.

“Could you stop that. Just call me Slaine.”

Inaho only gives a blank stare for the next 30 seconds, and Slaine blinks at the silent response he was receiving.

 _Did I break him?_ Slaine thinks then, horrified. The idea was completely absurd, Slaine knows, what with the person in front of him with large, and looks like _strong_ wings— but honestly, anything to Slaine is possible by now. The thought immediately disappears however, when the other continues speaking again.

“Alright, Slaine. What answers do you need?” Inaho asks the same question, and Slaine frowns at this.

“Uh, I don’t know, everything? Like why do you have wings, who are you, why are you here, and wh—,” Slaine pauses, as he tries to think of more, but to no avail.

“Uh, yeah,” he then says awkwardly, and swallows, “That’s it.”

Inaho blinks, and gives him his answer, “I am a Death Angel. It is a necessity to have wings. Death Angels extract souls when the souls’ name is written on the book of Death, and apparently, your soul was assigned to me, but I couldn’t extract your soul as your name somehow disappeared off the book of Death— and also, not existent in the book of Life. This is an abnormal occurrence, and so I have received orders from the Council to guard you at all times and make sure nothing out of the ordinary happens, until the day your name appears in either the book of Death or Life. I’ll be the one responsible to extract your soul when your name appears in the book of Death again, and if it appears on the book of Life, I will then disappear off from your side and resume with my usual task, extracting souls.”

When Inaho finishes explaining, Slaine only frowns more and more.

“Wait, hold up,” Slaine then says, and closes his eyes, putting his hand up, “Alright, so you’re a Death Angel. And I’m… supposed to… die?”

“If you put it that way, then yes.”

“And… book of life and book of death… my name is not ‘written’ in the both of them,” Slaine states, and Inaho nods in confirmation at that.

“Yes.”

Slaine frowns then, and swallows, “So what, I’m not dead… and not alive…?”

“You lie in between dead and alive, yes,” Inaho rephrases, and Slaine only blinks at the Death Angel in front of him for the next few moments. He then turns his head to look away.

“God,” Slaine breathes quietly, gulping, “Sorry, it’s just… a lot to take in.”

After a moment later, he finally turns his head back to look at the Death Angel in front of him.

“Are… humans… able to see you… then?” he finally asks the question, and tilts his head, frowning, “I mean, how do you hide those big wings of yours behind you?”

Inaho blinks, “I don’t hide them. Mortal beings are not able to see me,” he declares, but remembers to add, “Except you, of course.”

Slaine frowns even more, “What? Why is that?”

“I, too, have no idea,” Inaho says, and continues, “That’s a part of the abnormal occurrence. Another one is that you are also able to make physical contact with me, which mortal beings can’t.”

Slaine blinks as he takes in the information, then swallows, “Okay, so,” he says, “You are literally invisible to everyone else, except me.”

Inaho nods, “Yes.”

Slaine closes his eyes at the response, and as if mentally pained, he brings his hand up to rub his temples. Inaho is slightly amused at the scene.

“Alright, you know what,” Slaine then says, putting his hand down and opening back his eyes, “I’m… going to bed,” he declares, “And let’s just… continue this,” he waves his hand around at whatever they're having right now, “Tomorrow,” Slaine finishes his sentence, and tries his best to smile at the Death Angel in front of him, “Thank you…” he trails, but then frowns.

“Do you have a name?” Slaine asks, and tilts his head. Inaho blinks, and opens his mouth.

“Inaho. Kaizuka Inaho,” Inaho replies, and really, he shouldn’t have done that. He should have just said no, or ignore the question. His name was none of his business, but Inaho’s mouth opened to reply before he could even think about it.

Slaine then sends him a smile— a genuine one in fact; the one that _ah, his eyes are smiling, too,_ and it kind of— Inaho’s not sure— stirred something up inside of him.

Though he ignores it.

“Thank you, Inaho,” Slaine says, smile still on his face, “I thought I would be frustrated out of my mind, really, if you never showed yourself, and left me thinking I was hallucinating and going crazy,” Slaine lets out a chuckle, and then sighs, “But now that it’s… actually more than that…” he trails, and heaves another sigh, gulping, “I… really need to sleep. My mind’s all fuzzy and this information is really taking its toll me,” he chuckles.

“Well, once again, thank you, Inaho, for explaining… this to me,” he continues and sends a grateful smile, but then pauses.

“Um… now could you move away, please? You’re kinda… blocking the door,” Slaine declares awkwardly, and Inaho blinks, looking behind himself when he hears those words.

“Ah,” Inaho says, and immediately goes to move away, and at that Slaine reaches for the door— opening it and heading in to the house. Just when he was about to close the door again, he smiles at Inaho one last time, though this time, it was a tired one.

“Well then, goodnight, Inaho,” Slaine says, and then the door shuts, and goes _click_.

Inaho could still see through the closed door, and he watches Slaine Troyard— _Slaine_ , walk back up the stairs, heading back into his own room. Inaho unfolds his wings again, and flies back up to the roof, settling himself down.

Inaho knows he hadn’t made a wrong choice to show and explain himself in front of Slaine. Slaine wasn’t a threat— Inaho now knows that all too well— and so he feels a little bit more relaxed than he had before. He doesn’t have to make sure he keeps himself out of Slaine’s sight anymore, now that he knows the truth. It _was_ an honest hassle to him, really, and now, it makes things much more easier for him.

For once in these long 15 years, Inaho lets out a smile. Small, but still a smile.

He looks down at the house below him, and focuses his eyes on the sleeping figure in the particular room; Slaine was already fast asleep, his leg thrown over to a bolster, blanket covering his body.

 _Slaine_ , he thinks, and tilts his head in slight amusement.

This might get interesting after all.

༺༒༻

After he had confronted the Death Angel, the Death Angel— _Inaho_ , seems to not care about hiding himself anymore.

And it was really, really irritating.

He would be eating his breakfast— his adoptive father in front of him, reading the newspaper— and then suddenly, Inaho— _the stupid angel with black wings_ — would appear right behind his father out of nowhere, making him choke on his cereal; and at that, his father looks at him as if he had done something sinful, and Slaine could only scratch his head in return— smiling awkwardly, and apologizing.

 _Or_ , he would be back home from school, and he’ll take sight of Inaho just hanging around the house— as if he lives there, _too_.

 _Speaking of_ _school_ , he would then see Inaho standing outside his class _staring_ at him— _the entire time_ — making him distracted, and not able to focus on his lessons.

And really, Slaine’s gonna blame it all on him if he ever fails one of his tests.

And if it was break time, or if he had to help a teacher out at the office, _or_ even if he had to go for a toilet break, _he’d still trail and follow him_ , like a dog, and oh my _god_ , do you know how hard it is to keep that frustration in, just so you don’t look insane and talk to air?

Night time came at the Cruhteo’s household, it was past midnight, and when Slaine was sure his adoptive father had already headed back into his own bedroom— lights turned off— he goes back to his own room, and shuts the door close.

And finally, lets it all out.

“Kaizuka Inaho. Come out, _now_ ,” Slaine says as his face twitches, his fist clenching real tightly, having this big urge to punch something, _hard_.

Inaho frowns as the mortal says his full name, and slowly, he flaps his wings down towards Slaine’s bedroom— his body passing through the room’s ceiling, his first time being in such place. Slaine sees the scene before him and flinches a little— still not used to the sight— but tries his best to shrug it off.

“You called?” Inaho asks in a blank tone, as if he didn’t do anything _wrong_ , and really, he didn’t think he did.

Slaine only scoffs at the response.

“Yes, _I called_. The hell do you think it’s okay to appear near me and let me… let me see you!?” Slaine whispers angrily, releasing all of his pent-up frustration.

Inaho only blinks, and slightly tilts his head, “Why? What’s wrong with that?”

Slaine only lets out a breath of disbelief at that.

“What’s wrong with—,” Slaine stops, and turns his head to the other side, his face literally filled with _are you kidding me? Am I dealing with someone so airheaded—_

But Inaho doesn’t know that, of course.

Inaho only blinks, waiting for the other to explain, and Slaine realizes this. He then tries his very best to calm himself down.

“Okay,” Slaine says, breathing out a breath and wears a smile, _a really fake one at that_ , “It’s wrong, because it distracts me. It makes me uncomfortable, do you understand?” Slaine speaks to the other slowly, as if the Death Angel in front of him was a little child, and that really ticked Inaho off a little bit.

“I understand, but why does it make you uncomfortable?” Inaho then asks, and Slaine’s mouth slowly opens, blinking rapidly as he has no idea what to answer that with.

“It just does!” Slaine settles on that, “Try having someone stare at you 24/7 like a stalker and not able to do anything! I know it’s your job and all, but at least don’t let me _see_ you! Like- like how you’ve done so before!” Slaine then says, and Inaho frowns.

“I don’t find that excuse reasonable enough,” Inaho declares, and Slaine’s mouth only drops at that. He continues, “It was troubling to watch you from afar, and also at the same time making sure you do not see me. I’d like it better if you don’t make it more difficult for me to do my job,” Inaho then says, and Slaine gapes at those words, blinking continuously.

“In conclusion, I am not going to follow your request. I deeply apologize if my presence ever does make you uncomfortable, but you can always ignore me, and just continue with your daily tasks,” Inaho says, and really, that was just his way of saying _deal with it_. Slaine knows this and he feels a small vein popping up on his forehead.

“God, you’re stubborn,” Slaine settles with that, and then heaves a sigh, giving up. He walks to his bed and flops onto it, ignoring the Death Angel standing in his room, and probably— _why wouldn’t he be_ — staring at him. With his face still stuffed into his pillow, he speaks, voice muffled.

“Whatever. Just get out of here already,” Slaine says, and he sulks, because _god, why is this only happening to him, what the hell did he do in his past life to deserve this, and even if he has to be stuck with a Death Angel for life, why is it one that’s so god damn frustrating—_

The thought gets interrupted however, when suddenly the Death Angel in his room speaks.

“If you really don’t like it, then I can try and watch you from afar. Though I won’t be hiding myself, so if you see me, it won’t be my fault,” Inaho then suggests, and at that, Slaine lifts his face up from his pillow, his head turning to the right to look at the Death Angel in the eye.

He then lets his head fall onto the pillow again, though this time, he faces Inaho— eyes still on the angel, “It’s alright, its fine,” he says, and closes his eyes, “Who am I to hassle an immortal being,” and sighs.

Inaho only stands there, and stares at the young boy slowly seeping into dreamland. And Inaho realizes he does, when he hears the other’s breathing slowly turning into an even rhythm. Walking towards the bed, he grabs the blanket that was neatly folded at the foot of the bed— unfolding it, and putting the blanket on the said sleeping boy.

 _I just don’t want him to catch a cold_ , Inaho tells himself.

He goes and walks over to the light switch, and turns the light off, looking at the sleeping boy one last time, and unfolds his wings, flying his way back up the roof.

༺༒༻

Slaine was in his room. It was a Saturday, and he was doing his physics homework at his study table.

It’s been more than a week now. He has not seen the Death Angel even once.

Although he had told him that it was fine to continue being around him as usual, he didn’t. It actually felt like he was no longer around anymore, just like how it was before.

 _Even if he said he wouldn’t hide himself_ , Slaine thinks, as he bites on his pencil, _maybe he’s just really good at this._

But then he tilts his head when something comes up to his head.

 _Wait, maybe my name appeared in the Life book? That could be a possibility why he’s not around anymore_ , Slaine thinks to himself, and stops biting on the pencil when he realizes something.

_So wait, he’s gone?_

Putting his pencil down at the thought, he blinks at his physics textbook in front of him.

_Nah, he could just be watching me from somewhere else, not bothering me like I asked him to._

Shaking his head, he picks up his pencil again, and tries to bring his focus back onto the homework he has yet to finish on the table. He only stares at the physics questions dumbly for who knows how long, not knowing how to solve them, and then he finds himself thinking of the Death Angel, again.

Slaine heaves a sigh.

He needs confirmation.

“Uh…” Slaine starts, speaking loudly— thankful that he’s the only one in the house, as his adoptive father is at work, “Inaho…?” he calls out, and tries to think of something else to say, and his eyes takes sight of the physics homework he has in front of him.

“Do you know how to do physics?” Slaine then questions, and he slowly closes his eyes at himself in embarrassment, because _who the hell asks a Death Angel that oh my goodness—_

“Yes. Do you have difficulties solving them?” a voice behind him suddenly speaks, and he jumps at it. Quickly turning his body around to look at the spoken voice— there he was, wings folded up, standing in the middle of his room; that usual blank face he always wears still in place. Slaine smiles a little at the sight.

 _Ah_ , _so he was just watching me from afar, after all_ , Slaine thinks, and he feels a tinge of relief at that.

Though, he would never admit that to himself.

“Uh, yeah,” Slaine answers back, and scratches his head, “I’m quite dumb in physics, actually.”

Inaho doesn’t say anything, but only walks towards the study table Slaine was sitting at— looking at the questions that has been laid on the table. He then takes the pencil out of Slaine’s hands, and starts drawing circles on the paper— explaining.

When he was done, Slaine was full-on amazed.

“So do you understand the concept now? Right over here they ask for the average velocity. You know what to do, right?” Inaho questions, and Slaine nods his head enthusiastically.

“Yes, I actually understand it!” Slaine exclaims, and excitedly takes the pencil out of Inaho’s hand, frantically solving the question before he forgets everything— because that’s what _always_ happens during his physics class. _Always_.

When he was done, he immediately takes the paper and shoves it to the Death Angel’s face.

“Is it correct? Is it correct?” Slaine asks excitedly, and really, why is he so jumpy Inaho has no idea. He had to move his head away before the paper hits his face.

“Calm down,” Inaho tells the other, and takes the paper out of Slaine’s hands. As he scans the paper, he turns his eyes to look at the boy in front of him. The other was all restless in his chair, looking up at the Death Angel with hopeful eyes.

It was cute.

And Inaho doesn’t know what this new feeling is.

He blinks, and looks away, turning his eyes back to the paper in his hands.

“There are no mistakes, but you could have solved it with this other method—” Inaho starts, but gets interrupted when Slaine takes the paper away from his hands.

“Then it’s correct, right? It doesn’t matter what method I use, as long as it’s right, I get a mark from the exams. So is it right?” Slaine asks the other, his eyes wide from anticipation as he waits for the answer.

Inaho blinks.

“Yes. You’ve done it correctly.”

Slaine wears a wide smile at that, and his eyes turns upwards, too.

He laughs, and looks at the paper in his hands, and then back at the Death Angel beside him, “Thanks, Inaho! I can’t believe this,” he says, and then takes his pencil again, doing the other questions on the paper, but he continues, “How are you so good at physics? Do they teach them in your… other world, or something?” he says, and scrunches up his nose at his words, “Wherever the place you come from is called.”

“There’s no name for the place I come from,” Inaho replies, and continues, “And no, we don’t learn anything there except the knowledge of extracting souls. Physics is just a particular interest of mine I’ve learned from human books,” he explains, and Slaine looks away from his paper to look at the Death Angel beside him. He then smiles.

“Well then, that means now I have a personal physics teacher with me, no payment needed! That’s great!” he laughs, and then heaves a sigh, “I don’t think I have to be afraid of failing my physics exams anymore,” he continues happily as he looks at the physics paper in front of him, and Inaho tilts his head at that.

“Have you ever failed your physics exams?” Inaho asks, and Slaine looks at the other in reply.

“Well, no, but I’m always near the failing mark. It’s scary,” Slaine affirms, and gulps, “But as long as you’re by my side now, I don’t have to be afraid of that anymore.”

Inaho blinks again.

“Does that mean I don’t have to watch you from afar anymore?” Inaho suddenly asks, and Slaine splutters at that— blinking continuously at the Death Angel beside him, his eyes turning wide.

“I-I never said you had to! I mean— I did, but then I told you it was fine!” Slaine exclaims, and Inaho frowns when a blush starts blossoming on the other’s face.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Inaho bluntly asks, and Slaine splutters even more.

“I’m not!” Slaine squeaks, and his face goes completely red when he hears the tone of his voice, “Oh my god, go away,” he then says, and covers his face with his hands, slamming his forehead onto the table.

“Your ears are red, too,” Inaho then states, and Slaine quickly goes to cover his ears at that, turning his head around to glare at the Death Angel beside him.

He stops though, when he realizes the other was wearing a small smile on his lips.

“Wait,” Slaine says, and slowly puts his hands down, blinking in slight disbelief, “Are you… teasing me?” he asks, baffled, and Inaho’s smile disappears with that.

“No, I’m not,” Inaho answers.

“You are, aren’t you!?” Slaine says, and instantly stands up from his chair. Inaho takes a step back in response.

“No, I’m not,” Inaho repeats like a robot, and Slaine narrows his eyes.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I saw your wings move.”

“It was reflex.”

Slaine looks at the other in scepticism, and folds his arms.

“You think I’m stupid, do you.”

“No, I do not,” Inaho replies with his monotonous voice, and Slaine only releases a scoff.

“Whatever, fly away then. It’s not like I can catch you,” he mutters under his breath, and turns his attention back to the physics work he has on his table, sitting back down on his chair.

Inaho blinks at the response, and he was honestly quite disappointed on how their conversation just ended like that. Not really wanting to leave the room— because really, it’s super boring staying up on the roof all day— he walks around the place, and looks at the multiple trophies and medals that’s been placed at a shelf. Inaho lets out a small smile at the sight.

He’s been through all the times when Slaine had received them all. One from a mathematics quiz, and one from his judo competition. Another one from his calligraphy contest, and many others more. Inaho remembers all of them.

Slaine is a talented kid, now that Inaho thinks. How ironic though, that the one thing he’s not good at is physics; something Inaho knows all too well— the _only_ thing Inaho knows involving mankind, and has an interest in.

He turns his eyes away from the shelf to the boy at the study table, and realizes the boy was staring at him, his body turned around from his chair.

“What?” Inaho asks, and Slaine only blinks in response, his face unimpressed.

“Why are you still here?” Slaine asks back bluntly, and Inaho blinks, opening his mouth.

“It’s boring. Going back up,” Inaho states, and Slaine continues to blink. He then frowns.

“And, what? Here’s entertaining?” Slaine then asks sarcastically, but Inaho nods slowly in response.

“Yes,” Inaho confirms, and Slaine blinks, then rolls his eyes, turning back around to continue with his homework.

Inaho doesn’t understand why Slaine is so rude to him.

He clears his throat— _he never had to clear his throat_ — and starts speaking again, “Are there any other things you’re bad at?”

 _Ah_ , Inaho thinks, _maybe I shouldn’t have asked that._

It was too late now.

Slaine immediately stops his writing, and he blinks in disbelief. Turning his head around to look at the Death Angel behind him, he scoffs.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Slaine asks incredulously, and Inaho blinks, trying to choose his words carefully.

“I was just wondering. Maybe I can help you out with something other than physics,” Inaho smoothly suggests, and he feels slightly relaxed when he sees the irritation on Slaine’s face disappear.

“Oh,” Slaine replies, and then turns his head back to the homework in front of him, “Nah, it’s just physics. Well, there’s this other thing that I’m bad at, which is running, but I don’t think you’ve ever done that in your life,” Slaine says and snickers, obviously pointing out the wings the other had.

“How can you be bad at running?” Inaho flat out asks, but he was sincerely curious, tilting his head. Slaine turns his head to look at the Death Angel, and thankfully, there was no sign of judgement in his eyes. He only swallows, and continues, “Well, running contains lots of stamina, and apparently, I lack in that. Sports was never my thing, honestly,” Slaine answers and shrugs, but then fully turns his body around, resting his arms on the backrest of his chair.

“What about your wings, though?” Slaine then asks, and looks at the wings folded behind Inaho’s back in curiosity, “Do you need stamina for that?”

Inaho blinks at the question, “No. We are entirely different compared to humans. We don’t need stamina,” Inaho says, _whatever that is_ , he adds in his mind.

Slaine nods his head in understanding, and suddenly stands up from his chair.

“Hey, unfold your wings for me,” Slaine says, and Inaho only makes a small grunting sound as the other walks closer to him.

“Why?” Inaho questions, but Slaine is already in front of him. He walks around the Death Angel, observing the wings he has on his back, and then stops behind him— reaching out his hand. Slaine gives his wings a touch, and Inaho flinches— though not obvious.

“Woah, your wings are really soft,” Slaine says in awe, as he starts caressing the feathers with gentle hands, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Feathers are meant to be soft, Slaine—” Inaho replies, but Slaine cuts him off.

“Just shut up and let me enjoy this, will you,” Slaine snaps, giving the other a look, and Inaho closes his mouth at that. He still feels slightly uncomfortable at the other’s touch on his wings.

Slaine finally stops touching them though, and when Inaho turns his body around to look at the boy standing behind him, he was biting his lips— as if contemplating something. Inaho waits.

“Hey… Inaho…” Slaine finally starts, his eyes on his wings, and he slowly reaches out his hand again, fingers nearly touching the feathers, but not.

“Your wings… they’re really strong, aren’t they?”

Inaho blinks at the sudden question, and something lies in Slaine’s eyes.

Inaho doesn’t know what it is.

Slaine’s lips curves upwards at one side, “You know… Thanks for saving me… back then. Back in the fire,” he says, and before Inaho could reply, he speaks again.

“Your wings… they’re certainly beautiful.”

Slaine breathes those words out, and slowly a gentle smile grows on his lips.

Inaho was staring, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

He had thought that was the most beautiful expression Slaine has ever worn.

༺༒༻

Something was growing between the two of them, Inaho knows this well.

Through the days, weeks, and years pass, they’ve gotten to know each other better.

While Slaine discovers facts about Inaho, at the same time Inaho discovers them, too.

Like how he actually likes the smell of lavender (the shampoo that Slaine always uses), how he likes it when hands comb through his hair (his head on Slaine’s lap, as they watch the dark night sky filled with stars at the rooftop), how he likes it when Slaine hums a melody out of nowhere (and Inaho hears that every day).

Slaine realizes that as a Death Angel, there was a lot of restrictions for Inaho himself. Death Angels has no sense of taste. _We don’t need to consume anything_ , says Inaho, and so even if they ate something absolutely delicious or awful, it doesn’t affect them in anyway (Slaine thinks thank goodness, as he isn’t all that well in cooking). They are not able to fall into slumber. They can close their eyes, but they will always be awake (Slaine finds that upsetting. He will never have the trope where he stares at Inaho and admires the other’s peaceful sleeping appearance).

When Slaine turns 18, he moves out of the Cruhteo’s household, and moves into a new apartment that settles near his university.

Inaho follows along, of course.

And Inaho prefers this, honestly. Slaine doesn’t have to keep his voice down when he talks to him anymore, and he doesn’t have to wait for Slaine’s father to be fast asleep, then only he could hear Slaine’s carefree laugh.

Slaine likes this, too. The feeling of getting home after a hard day from classes, assignments, presentations, and projects, the Death Angel will be there to greet him in his apartment— sitting on the couch and gently, patting the space beside him; urging the human to come sit next to him.

༺༒༻

Sometimes, when Slaine is fast asleep, Inaho takes the free time to learn how kitchens work.

Why, you ask? Well, there was a kitchen book on the kitchen counter.

 _My friend gave it to me, so I can stop eating the food in convenience stores_ , Slaine says while he watches the TV, but shrugs, _I don’t think I’ll ever use it, though_.

So why waste a useful book, Inaho thinks.

Thankfully, Inaho had never set the kitchen on fire while the owner of the said kitchen was fast asleep, _that would be trouble_ , Inaho thinks. He did mess up once or twice, but other than that, he fared quite well. Taste test on the other hand went badly at first, taking into account that Inaho can’t really _taste_ the things he makes, but it gradually became better, with the help of Slaine’s critics.

( _Ergh_ , Slaine exclaims in disgust, _too salty_.)

( _It’s… uh… bland_ , Slaine bluntly says, but he downs the tasteless miso soup anyway.)

But, Inaho will never forget the look of surprise Slaine had on his face, when he had first woken up to actual homemade breakfast on the dining table.

 

Slaine’s now favourite meal is Inaho’s homemade rolled omelettes.

༺༒༻

When Inaho smiles, it makes Slaine feel all fluttery in his chest.

 _Probably because he rarely smiles_ , Slaine thinks.

(Or probably because he only does it when he’s with him.)

༺༒༻

Slaine never invites his friends to his apartment. He rarely goes out with them either.

He’d rather stay in his apartment with Inaho, wrapped up in blankets, and watch the TV while his head is resting on Inaho’s shoulders.

༺༒༻

Slaine is the one who realizes his feelings first. And on that day itself, was Valentine’s Day.

You kind of get the gist of how it went, right?

Slaine freaked, and the day after, he begins and honestly _tries_ , to distance himself away from Inaho.

༺༒༻

“What’s wrong, Slaine?” Inaho asks one day. He had his hand grabbed onto the other’s arm— Slaine just about to walk out of the door.

Slaine’s been acting weird, Inaho realizes. He only gives him short answers whenever they talk, and Slaine… he doesn’t seem to see him smiling anymore. He became more… distant. And Inaho doesn’t like it.

“Nothing’s wrong, Inaho. Now let go, I have classes,” Slaine replies, his back facing Inaho.

 _Lies_ , Inaho thinks, _both of them_.

“I’m sure your classes don’t start until 10, like usual,” Inaho replies, and he forcefully turns Slaine around, so he could get a good look at his face.

He freezes at the sight before him.

Slaine was crying.

“Please… let go…” Slaine whimpers, trying to hold in his tears, but failing miserably. Initially, Inaho would have let go. If this was him years back, he would have let go, and let the other leave.

But he didn’t.

Inaho doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he pulls the other into a hug.

There was only silence, and Inaho finally speaks.

“Never,” Inaho says, and the person in his arms cries out loud at that. Slaine gives up, and wraps his arms around Inaho, hugging him back, and grabs onto his shirt tightly, as if he would disappear any moment, and _god_ , he thinks as he cries, _please don’t disappear_.

 

Inaho doesn’t.

༺༒༻

Strangers, to acquaintances. Acquaintances, to friendship. And friendship, blossoming into love.

Before they knew it, they fell deeper, and it was scaring the both of them.

A Death Angel and a human falling in love; is there even a possibility of a happy ending from that?

 

 _This is bound to go wrong_ , Slaine once whispers near Inaho’s lips. They were on the couch, television turned off, and Inaho tightens the hold he has on Slaine’s hand. _It might_ , Inaho answers back, but he inches closer, and before he clashes his lips with the other’s own, he speaks again.

_But I’ll still be there with you when it does._

༺༒༻

And it starts.

They were in bed, and Slaine was already fast asleep in his arms. As he watches and listens to Slaine’s even breathing— a serene look resting on his face— he suddenly hears ringing in his ears, and his eyes widens slightly at it.

The council was calling for him.

He obviously does not know what it was for, but he hopes it isn’t anything terrible.

God, he really hopes it isn’t.

Quietly, and making sure he doesn’t wake Slaine up, he slips out of bed, and then unfolds his wings— flapping his wings out of the apartment; into the sky, and finding his way to the— no longer familiar, honestly— portal, heading into the immortal world.

Landing in front of the door where the council lies behind, he does the same thing he had done many years ago, and the door opens at it.

There was only one council member that meets his eyes.

Ma’am Magbaredge.

“Ah, Kaizuka,” she greets, a smile on her lips, “How have you been?”

Inaho bows his head in response, “I’ve been doing well.”

Magbaredge frowns, though her lips are still smiling, “Is that only it?” she asks, and _no, that’s not only it_ , Inaho thinks, but that wasn’t something he could tell her.

Magbaredge continues, “Well, I called for you, because I’m here to inform you that your assigned soul, Slaine Troyard—”

_Please, give me good news._

“— finally made an appearance in one of the books. The book of Death,” Magbaredge finishes, and Inaho’s whole body goes rigid at that.

Magbaredge continues, “Something is probably happening now, so by the time you get back to earth, he’ll be ready for you to start the extraction process. Two in the morning, and six minutes time,” she says, but Inaho wasn’t listening, he only knows that _something is happening_.

And Inaho wants to stop it.

Inaho, the Death Angel, wants to stop it.

For the first time, he wants to defy fate.

Inaho blinks, his face devoid of any emotion, and he bows his head once to the council member in front of him, “Thank you, Ma’am Magbaredge. Then I shall take my leave,” Inaho then says, and straightens his head again.

“Alright. You’re dismissed,” Magbaredge replies, and before she could say anything more, Inaho immediately unfolds his wings, and flies off. Magbaredge smiles. She thinks that Inaho just couldn’t wait to be lifted from this task that took 18 years to be finally done with.

Oh, if she knew, it was the complete opposite.

༺༒༻

Slaine was on the floor, bleeding from his abdomen, and it all went by like a blur.

He remembers waking up to the sounds of glass shattering somewhere in the living room. Thinking it was Inaho, he got up from the bed, and headed out of the bedroom to check, but there were only two burglars that met his sight.

Everything went by too fast, Slaine couldn’t take it in.

Before he could even process what was happening, one of them rushes to him with a pocket knife— out of panic probably, afraid from getting caught— and then they left straight away. Whatever they took with them Slaine wasn’t worried, as there weren’t much valuable stuff in his apartment anyway.

And now Slaine was bleeding everywhere on the floor. And Inaho wasn’t anywhere.

 _Where’s…?_ Slaine trails, but it was too late.

Unconsciousness got to him first.

༺༒༻

Inaho saw it happen right in front of his eyes, while he was still flying down towards earth, and he silently curses at himself that he’s not able to stop time.

Swiftly landing into the apartment, and right next to Slaine— he was in the living room, and Slaine lies on the ground, a pool of blood gathering around him.

He was no longer conscious, and he was losing a lot of blood. His features became paler than it usually looks, and his heartbeat became faint; one of the signs that shows the soul being ready for an extraction process.

But no, Inaho’s won’t be doing that today.

He can’t ever even if he tried.

And instead, he was about to do something reckless.

Inaho admits this.

Silently apologizing to his sister for what he’s about to do, he gently brings Slaine’s head to his lap, and the coldness of Slaine’s face under his fingertips makes him swallow. Turning his eyes to the big gash on the other’s torso, he brings both of his hand right above it, and cups the wound. Inaho closes his eyes.

He has no idea if it will work, but he hopes it does.

 _Heal. Please, heal_ , Inaho thinks, and nothing happens at first, but slowly, light starts shining through his hands, and when he slowly opens back his eyes, he sees it.

The wound was reacting to the light, though the progress was slow, it was closing up.

 _It worked_ , Inaho thinks to himself, and he heaves a breath of relief.

When the procedure was done, Inaho suddenly feels all power drained out of him. His vision blurred, but only for a second, and everything goes back to normal. He gulps, trying to shake off the light headedness coming onto him, and gently, wraps an arm around Slaine’s waist— another under his knees— and carries Slaine bridal style, bringing him to the bedroom, and helping him change off the bloodied clothes.

As he walks his way to bring the dirtied clothes to the laundry basket, he feels it. His eyes slightly widens at the sensation, and slowly, turns his back to look.

 _Ah_ , Inaho thinks when he sees it, _so that’s the bad side effect_ , and he blinks.

There the floor lies seven black feathers.

His feathers.

༺༒༻

Slaine wakes up, and of course, Inaho lies to him.

 _You were dreaming_ , he says, and sends the other a gentle smile, _I was here the whole time while you were asleep._

And Slaine believes him, because how could that terrible wound on his abdomen disappear without a trace?

༺༒༻

Inaho never liked lying, but it was never a choice.

And he plans to make sure Slaine never finds out.

༺༒༻

It keeps happening. Inaho prevents one death from happening, and another comes. And he prevents it again, and another comes. Each time, Inaho lies to Slaine, and Slaine believes him; and slowly, he feels himself becoming more tainted each lie he spurts out.

 _How dare you lie to the one you love_ , one part of Inaho says.

 _Sometimes, lies are better than truths_ , another part of Inaho says, _ignorance is bliss, after all._

༺༒༻

His wings loses more feathers each time he heals his beloved, but it doesn’t affect Inaho in anyway.

He has a total of at least 32,000 feathers with him. He’ll last.

༺༒༻

“Inaho,” Slaine calls, and he turns his body around from the kitchen to look at the man behind him.

“Hm?” Inaho replies.

“Your wings… they look smaller than usual,” Slaine says, and a frown lies on his face. Inaho only blinks, and smiles lovingly in reply.

“My wings shrink when I don’t use them for a while.”

_Another lie._

And it still hurts him as much as he had did it the first time.

He turns his body back around to continue with his task at hand— making breakfast for the both of them, the usual rolled omelettes— and what he doesn’t realize is, behind him, Slaine’s frown was still in place.

༺༒༻

Slaine caught on, eventually.

“I knew they weren’t dreams. They were too vivid to be dreams,” Slaine says lividly as he clenches his fist, and he bites his lips in anger.

“You’ve been doing something, and you didn’t tell me,” Slaine says, and no, it wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Inaho had his eyes locked onto the other, and really, even if he had badly wanted Slaine to never find out, he knew he would have sooner or later.

Slaine was a smart one, after all.

Inaho's lips slowly curves upwards.

“Yes. I’ve been doing something, and I didn’t tell you,” Inaho repeats Slaine’s words, and his tone shows no signs of regret. Slaine only narrows his eyes at that, his face filled with betrayal and hurt.

“Why?” Slaine asks, and this time, his voice comes out broken, and Inaho closes his eyes.

He releases a shuddering breath.

He can no longer bring himself to lie anymore.

“Because God decided you shouldn’t live, and I was then ordered to extract your soul,” Inaho finally declares, and opens his eyes back, “But I can’t. And this time, when I say I can’t, I mean I _can’t_ ,” Inaho says, and he feels the heavy weight on his shoulders slowly being lifted away.

“Do you… understand… what I’m trying to say here, Slaine?”

Inaho finishes with difficulty, and lets his strong composure crumble down— the one that he has been keeping up for _months_. He suddenly feels so very light, and so he lets everything go, collapsing to the ground hard, his body making a loud thud at the impact— and he just lies there pathetically, as if he no longer could feel any of his limbs.

Slaine looks at the sight before him in horror, and getting a hold of himself, he runs towards Inaho— kneeling on the ground next to him.

“W-What’s wrong, Inaho? Can you not stand up?” Slaine asks, and his hands were reaching out to him, trembling, his voice unstable.

It pains Inaho to see and hear it.

Inaho tries to take in slow breaths— angels _never_ need to take in breaths— and looks at Slaine, trying to smile, though it came out weak as ever.

“It’s fine. It’s just a side effect, after all,” Inaho breathes, and closes his eyes. Slaine lets out a sob and frowns, shaking his head.

“Are you an idiot!? Why… why would you… would you…?” Slaine trails, and he finally breaks down and starts crying, crying his heart out as he grabs onto Inaho’s shirt tightly; Inaho still lies on the ground, his eyes already opened— as he stares at the sight before him.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Slaine whimpers then, and he swallows, “You turned out like this… because of me…” Slaine says, and _dear god_ , _no_ , Inaho thinks, and he gulps, trying to muster up his energy back.

“I am stronger than you think I am, Slaine,” Inaho settles, and Slaine looks back up from the ground to look at Inaho's face.

Slaine's eyes and nose were red, but Inaho still thought he looked beautiful as ever.

“Don’t take the blame. It was me who made the choice,” Inaho continues, and he stretches out a hand— caressing Slaine’s face, and wiping the tears stains visible on his cheek at the same time.

“I just need to rest,” Inaho then breathes, and swallows, closing his eyes again, “Can you take good care of me while I do?” Inaho asks, and a moment later, he feels Slaine nodding his head, a hand grabbing his hand back.

“You idiot. You stupid blank headed idiot,” Slaine mutters out insults under his breath, and Inaho smiles comfortingly at it.

“Blank headed isn’t a word, Slaine,” Inaho replies breathlessly, eyes still closed, and Slaine wears a fond smile at the response.

“Empty headed, then,” Slaine continues as he whispers, and Inaho opens back his eyes. The other was looking at him with such loving eyes.

Inaho couldn’t take it.

Moving his other hand so he could bring himself to sit up— strength coming back to him slowly— he brings himself to sit upright, and uses the hand he has on Slaine’s face to bring him closer to him.

As their faces was inches apart, Inaho made sure he locked his eyes with the other.

“I love you,” Inaho murmurs, and his gaze goes down to look at lips.

And he kisses those perfect lips of his.

 

 _God_ , Inaho thinks for the millionth time.

He sure does love Slaine a lot.

༺༒༻

“Inaho, don’t hurt yourself for my sake,” Slaine says one day. Four days have passed since the confrontation, and Inaho was in bed, still resting. Inaho was sitting upright, and Slaine sat himself at the side of the bed— his back facing Inaho.

“What do you mean?” Inaho asks back calmly. He could see Slaine biting his lips.

“What’s the point, anyway?” Slaine finally says, and looks down at his hands, “We’re both just hurting in the end, so what’s the point? I… you should just let me go, Inaho—”

“I am doing what I can, Slaine!”

Slaine stops as he hears Inaho shout, his eyes widening.

This was the first time Inaho has ever raised his voice.

“I am trying to make things better for the both of us, don’t you understand?” Inaho then settles, and under the blanket he clenches his fist, “If not us both, then you. I have an ability that would prevent things going from the worst, so why wouldn’t I use them, Slaine?” Inaho asks then, and Slaine tries to blink back the tears that were slowly forming in his eyes.

“I don’t regret whatever I’ve done. And if I have to do it again, I will. It doesn’t matter who is hurting in this situation, Slaine, just—” Inaho stops, and swallows, taking a breath, “I can’t ever… bring you away—”

“You’re so selfish!” Slaine screams then, and turns his body around furiously to face the other, tears already falling down his cheeks, “Have you ever thought of how I feel? How it makes me feel to see you… like… like this!?” Slaine gestures to Inaho himself, and sobs, but he continues, “I feel like I have a hole punctured in my chest, Inaho! And no matter what I do, it won’t go away! I… you…” Slaine trails helplessly, and at that, Inaho pulls the other into an embrace. Slaine tenses for a while, but he finally relaxes; bringing his arms around Inaho, and crying out loudly.

This time, Inaho tears up with him, too.

He didn’t know he was capable of it, until now.

They hug for a long while, and when Slaine finally settled down, Inaho pulls back, and grabs Slaine’s face with both of his hands.

“I love you,” Inaho says, and looks at Slaine’s eyes. Slaine suppresses the urge to cry again.

“I love you,” Inaho says again, and this time he looks at everywhere else of Slaine’s face. Slaine lets out a small whimper.

“I love you,” Inaho repeats softly this time, and his eyes goes back to Slaine’s eyes again, “Can’t that be enough?” he says quietly, and with that, Slaine immediately goes in for a kiss— wrapping his arms around Inaho’s neck, his lips moving messily on Inaho’s; and Inaho could feel tears— tears, that weren’t his, wet his cheeks.

The kiss was desperate, filled with longing, and Inaho kisses Slaine back as much passion as he could return. Slowly, the kiss turns gentle, slow smooches on the lips, and when they finally pulled apart, Inaho wipes the tears on Slaine’s face, sending a gentle smile to the other.

“You have always been a cry baby, haven’t you, Slaine,” Inaho states fondly, and Slaine only glares, though it looked cute, Inaho thinks, with how Slaine’s face all puffy and red.

Slaine hugs Inaho again— taking him by surprise— and his arms wraps around his neck. He tightens his grip this time, and closes his eyes— heaving a contented sigh.

“I hate this life, and yet I love it. I’m going crazy,” Slaine mumbles, and Inaho smiles at it. He hugs the other back, and nuzzles his face into Slaine’s neck, embracing his scent.

“Same here,” Inaho mumbles back against Slaine’s skin, and Slaine shivers at it. They hugged like that for a while, and eventually, Slaine fell into slumber in his arms. Inaho gently lays Slaine on the bed when he realizes he does— careful not to wake the other— and grabs the blanket, draping it over him. He only sits there with him, and stares at the serene face Slaine always wears when he’s fast asleep— gently smiling at the sight.

He stops smiling however, when he hears a familiar ringing in his ears.

༺༒༻

Once the door fully opens, all three council members were present in front of him, and he immediately opens his mouth to speak.

“Ma’am Magbaredge, you called?” Inaho asks, and bows his head. Magbaredge smiles at the boy in front of her.

“Kaizuka. How have you been?” Magbaredge greets, disregarding the man’s question, and Inaho tries his best not to grunt.

“I have been doing fine, Ma’am Magbaredge,” he says as he brings his head back up, and Marito makes a clicking sound while he flips a page of a book he was reading on his table.

“Cut off with the formalities, Kaizuka Junior. How many times has it been since we’ve said so,” Marito says, not looking up from his book. Inaho ignores the man, and brings his eyes back to Magbaredge in front of him.

“What is the reason for you to have called me up here, Ma’am Magbaredge?” Inaho asks clearly this time, and Magbaredge smiles.

“What’s the rush, Kaizuka?” she jokes, but Inaho only blinks, not humouring the other— only waiting for an answer to his question.

 _As expected_ , Magbaredge thinks, and shakes her head.

“I called you here, this time, to inform you that you are lifted from your task.”

_What?_

Inaho blinks once, twice, and opens his mouth to speak, but Magbaredge further explains.

“Slaine Troyard is a special case. I have relayed this issue to the Head of the Death Angels, and he has given the authorization to bring over someone who has the authority to forcefully extract one’s soul out of its vessel.”

“What?” Inaho says it out loud this time, and Magbaredge raises her eyebrows at the response.

She continues, “Someone who is more capable is being sent to Slaine Troyard, to start the extraction process, forcefully. The fact that he’s been in the book of Death for so long, and you have yet to collect his soul till now, I was guessing it was the case of normal Soul Carrier Death Angels are not able, or doesn’t have the ability, to extract its soul out of its vessel, am I correct?”

Inaho tries his very best to keep himself composed.

“Yes, you are,” Inaho forces those words out of his mouth, “And so… this person who is more capable, when are they going to start the extraction?” Inaho asks in return, and Magbaredge immediately responds.

“He is already there now, if I’m not mistaken.”

Inaho visibly gulps, and clenches his fist. Magbaredge sees them both, and frowns.

“Then, I shall take my leave,” Inaho breathes, and bows his head. Not waiting for the ‘dismissed’ like usual, he unfolds his wings, and immediately flies off the place, rushing to the mortal world as fast as he could, rushing to _Slaine_.

Already at the skies of earth, he continues to fly towards the apartment, Slaine’s home, _his home_ , and he sees it. A foreign figure near Slaine’s sleeping body on the bed, and Inaho curses silently. He curses and curses and wishes it not to happen, but with his eyes, he witnesses everything vividly. The foreign black-winged angel doing the same thing he had been so used to doing at all the many human beings on earth, and he clenches his teeth, trying to make his wings flap harder, faster.

The bright light was brought out of Slaine’s chest, _but it’s alright_ , Inaho tries to assure himself; he can still stop it from happening.

The light then was transferred into the foreign man’s own bead, and Inaho was about to go insane. _Why wasn’t he still reaching to him yet!?_

And then he swallowed down the bead.

And Inaho felt all breath left his body.

Making an abrupt stop at the sight, he floats in the middle of the sky, and he continues staring; the man had already left the room, flying someplace else probably, but he didn’t bother. His gaze was fixed onto one place only; the body— the now soulless body— lying on the bed.

It was done. It was over.

Slaine’s soul was no longer in his reach.

He’s…

“Gone,” Inaho whispers to himself, and for a second he loses his balance, though he quickly regains it back. His head was now down, eyes closed, and he clenches his fists.

 _I couldn’t even fly fast enough to reach him_.

It was absurd. Everything was absurd.

Why was the world so _unfair_.

Something comes to his mind then, and he slowly opens his eyes back. Eyes now filled with another resolve, he swallows down the lump in his throat, and brings his head back up. He continues to bring himself forward— flying towards the apartment— and when his feet finally touches the familiar bedroom’s floor, he walks over to the body resting on the bed.

Slowly, he bends down to his knees, kneeling on the ground as he makes to grab the hand lying on the bed, _Slaine’s_ hand.

Exactly how it would feel when someone’s life was sucked out of their body, Slaine’s hand felt dead cold, and Inaho gulps. His eyes were slowly tearing up again, and Inaho only kisses the hand in return.

“Slaine Troyard,” Inaho starts, and takes in a breath, “I love you.”

There was a pause, and Inaho despises it _so much_. It felt like the silence was taunting him; telling him that the person in front of him was already _gone_ , that he was no longer able to respond to your words.

Inaho closes his eyes, and continues, “I love you, Slaine. Your white hair, your blue-green eyes, your adorable laugh,” he takes in another breath, “the colour of your cheeks when you blush… all of the little things. I love them all,” he says, and pauses.

“And I don’t want them to disappear.”

As Inaho says that, he swallows again, and continues, “That’s very selfish of me to say, I’m fully aware of this,” and he opens back his eyes, looking at his lover’s face; pale, and motionless.

“Slaine,” Inaho speaks again, his voice now firm, “I want you to continue living. I believe there is still so much more for you. You will probably despise me for ever saying this, but I honestly felt like… my existence, the Death Angels, the book of Death, book of Life, the council… all of this mess, they have only been pulling you back. And… I hate it, so much,” Inaho settles, and he looks down, closing his eyes— tears falling down with that— and his hands continues to grab the other’s hand tightly.

“I love you, Slaine. I love you so much, there is nothing in the world that’s able to explain how much I love you,” Inaho continues, and he looks back up, at Slaine’s face, “But… maybe this is it,” Inaho finishes, and he slowly makes to stand back up again, letting go of the hand.

Inaho stands right next to the bed, and looks down at Slaine’s lifeless body below him. He swallows, and closes his eyes.

“You probably would never forgive me for doing this,” Inaho continues, and he folds his hands together, placing it at the middle of his chest.

“But I, Kaizuka Inaho, Soul Carrier Death Angel,” Inaho says, and a light, shining brighter than ever, starts appearing below his hands— lighting up the whole room, “Would do anything… for you,” Inaho finishes, and successfully brought his own light out of his chest— shining in his hands way too brightly in blue. He then brings it down to Slaine’s body, and slowly, presses the light down to Slaine’s chest.

As he sees the light slowly absorbing itself to its new owner, Inaho retracts his hands away, and looks at the process before him. 

Inaho’s body reacts immediately to the change, and he feels all feathers on his wings falling off— no longer an angel with wings; and his body, along with the feathers gathered on the ground, slowly turning translucent.

Looking down at his hands— now see-through and sparkling, as if he was made from the stars at the night sky— Inaho lightly smiles.

He was about to disappear from existence. For an exchange of a better life for Slaine.

It was worth it.

Turning his eyes back to the body lying on the bed, the light that was previously his was now fully absorbed into Slaine’s body, making Slaine look healthier than ever— colour going back to Slaine’s face.

He reaches out his hand to touch Slaine’s face once more— one last time, before he evaporates into thin air— and it was incredible when he could still feel tears falling down his own face, despite his everything turning transparent; the tears landing down and wetting Slaine’s shirt.

“Let’s meet in another life, Slaine,” his voice echoes through the room, and he leans in to kiss Slaine on the lips one last time. Pulling away, he takes in a deep breath, and caresses the face of his lover.

“Let’s fall in love again,” he whispers.

At that, Inaho dissipates into thin air; sparkles dropping down at the movement, and disappears along with it, too. The feathers on the floor disappears, and every solid evidence of Inaho’s existence disappears. The room then turns quiet, only the sounds of the wall clock ticking could be heard.

But the tear stains on Slaine’s shirt was still there.

༺༒༻

Waking up to the alarm clock ringing loudly in his ears, Slaine grunts, and slams the alarm clock on his nightstand to stop the blaring noise.

Getting up from the bed, his eyes squints from the glaring light coming through the window, and he scratches his head, looking around him. He heaves a sigh, and finally gets off the bed, walking himself towards the bathroom to clean himself up.

For some reason, he felt like something was missing. He doesn’t know _what_ , because everything was normal and how it usually was; and the more he thinks about it, the more irritating it gets.

Under the shower, Slaine shakes his head to get rid of the weird feeling, and tries to forget about it.

_Whatever. Maybe I dreamt a weird dream and that’s why I’m feeling like this._

༺༒༻

Again, Slaine Troyard’s name disappeared off the book of Death.

It didn’t make sense, Magbaredge thinks, they have clearly extracted the soul and received it, so how?

Shaking her head, she puts the matter away, and closes the case.

There was no reason to dig this even further. The job was done. They have collected the soul, and the Head of the Death Angels had probably sent it to either heaven or hell, so it’s a waste of time to think of this matter even further.

 _It’s not like Slaine Troyard is still breathing and living with his soul taken out of its body_ , Magbaredge thinks, and focuses on her other tasks at hand.

༺༒༻

Inaho never came back, but Yuki tries to calm herself. She knows not to worry.

Because her little brother did promise her that he wouldn’t do anything reckless, after all.

_If I do, I’ll have my reasons._

 

Yuki tries to forget those words ever existed.

༺༒༻

Slaine is now 26 years old. He is a doctor working in a local hospital, and he is married to a beautiful wife with one daughter.

He is quite satisfied with how life is going so far.

༺༒༻

Don’t get him wrong, Slaine loves his wife, and he adores it every time his wife tries to do something for him; and she was certainly beautiful, there was no doubt in that. He was honestly grateful he got to marry such a pure-hearted woman.

But… he doesn’t know how to explain this… but it somehow feels, weird.

Aren’t you supposed to feel good, and butterflies in your stomach, when you kiss the one you love?

Slaine doesn’t feel that way. He feels quite normal actually.

 

Though it doesn’t really matter, Slaine thinks, so he pushes the thought aside.

༺༒༻

Slaine is now 97 years old, and he sits on his chair, feeling the time has come.

For some reason, his eyes starts tearing up; and so he closes his eyes.

And behind his eyelids, an image of a certain someone’s smile appears. 

It was not his wife, nor his daughter, nor his grandchildren. It was someone foreign, yet so familiar, and Slaine couldn’t pinpoint who it was.

 _With my old age, of course I can’t_ , Slaine thinks.

And when his heart finally gave up, and stopped beating, Slaine breathes out a name on his lips.

 

 

“Inaho.”

 

 

And then he dies.

 

 

 

༺༒༻

 

 

END

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay calm down calm down please don't kill me and calm down. There will be a sequel, okay? There will be. I've been writing this for days and it sincerely killed me mentally. Really. Inaho's character was so hard to write. I literally had to keep looking at his emotionless face every time I write his scenes so he doesn't come out too ooc. But I think I failed on that one, sigh. I'm sorry if it felt like the story was going too fast though, because I create the story plot as I go. It could have gone worse, actually. I know, because I beta'd this million times and the amount of mistakes I've made was ridiculous. I'm also sorry if the constant cut scenes annoy you. I really am not that good of a fanfic writer. Thank you so much for reading this and be sure to wait for the sequel!
> 
> (Just a heads up: Sequel is not gonna be long, but it will give you satisfactory. Well, it might.)
> 
>  
> 
> For more info about the story, read below:
> 
> \- Okay, how are Yuki and Inaho siblings, you ask? They somehow miraculously have the same first name. That’s why. That’s it. I have no other explanations.
> 
> \- I'm gonna think people are gonna ask why Inaho saved Slaine from the fire. You see, Slaine's case is a special one. His name was not written in either of the books, so even if he got into a car accident, or any other tragic happenings, he will NOT die. Humans only die in this story when their soul is extracted out of their body. So when the fire incident happened, the council did not in any way inform Inaho that his name appeared in the Death book, so at the time, he did not have the permission to extract the soul, and instead, he saved him. Actually, Inaho didn't have to save him, because either way Slaine would still live, but lets just say Inaho did so out of panic. 
> 
> \- When a Death Angel gives his own ‘light’ to a human being, it literally means they are reviving the dead back to life, which I have noted in the prequel notes that the action is forbidden, because the result of it in turn is that the Death Angel will disappear off from existence. 
> 
> \- Person who receive that light, will live until they die of old age. They will not have illness or infections or whatsoever. They will only die of old age. 
> 
> \- When Slaine died, there was no Death Angel that came to collect his soul. Slaine did not obtain a 'soul', the thing that kept him living and moving was Inaho's 'light'. I used the 'a mortal body can only last for a limit amount of time' theory, so Slaine died because his mortal body couldn't keep up. And when the mortal body collapses, the light then evaporates (just like how Inaho did).
> 
> \- The council and everyone else, including Yuki, doesn’t know that Inaho disappeared off from existence. The council probably thinks that Inaho is still collecting souls as usual. For cases like this, Yuki would have reported to the council that a certain Death Angel didn’t appear to be collecting their tasks, but because Inaho is her brother, she thinks there might be a good reason why he wasn't doing so; still wandering around earth doing whatever, and so she keeps quiet about it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Feedbacks and comments are much appreciated, as it motivates me to get on and write the sequel at the same time! Thank you!


	3. Sequel: Retry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The rain stops, and the sun starts shining brightly again; the skeleton flower dries, and goes back to full white._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the sequel to Diphylleia grayi! and don't worry!! it's not heartbreaking this time!! LMAO i am deeply sorry for all the tears i've caused (okay maaaybe not). Thank you so much to those who gave feedbacks and reviews on the story itself. I appreciate them a lot, no kidding ;n; ♥ and as usual, there will _maybe_ be mistakes in grammar or etc. I've tried my best to correct whatever i can, so if you do witness one, please do forgive me. Have a happy read guys!
> 
> music:  
> Gu Family Book OST - Moonlight Garden 
> 
> (greatly recommend you to hear this while reading the story! doesn't matter if it goes in repeat.)
> 
> also: now you see why i preferred Diphylleia grayi as the title of the story! :D you get the gist of it, right?

Slaine loves it when spring break comes, because it’s the time where he’ll be sent to his father’s beach house so he could spend the time there with his father. Of course, his father is not the only thing that makes him excited every time when he rides the car towards the place; Slaine loves the beach itself, too, and he is honestly so grateful that his father had decided to buy a house settling near a beach— despite him doing so after his divorcement with his mother.

His parents signed the divorce papers when he was 13— and by that time, Slaine already had a matured mind. He had always known his parents never got along well, and when his parents both decided to finally announce the news to their only son, Slaine only nods his head, and wears a sincere smile— stating that he was fine with it.

They still tried to make sure Slaine was happy though— coming to an agreement that Slaine would stay with his mother during all days except spring breaks, where the mother will be responsible to drive the son to the father’s residence. It was convenient too, since Slaine’s father’s house settles near a beach; he could have fun at the same time. And Slaine appreciates the effort both of his parents had given greatly. He honestly cherishes them both, a lot, and he is so grateful that although they are now a divorced family, they still tried to maintain a connection; unlike many other families.

So here he was, 16 and in his mother’s car, on spring break and _still_ , excited as ever. When his mother finally stops at a familiar house, Slaine quickly goes to unlock the car door— but not getting out before giving his mother a peck on the cheek.

Taking his mother by surprise, his mother smiles after he had done so, and she turns her head around to send a loving smile at her own son at the backseat.

“Have fun, okay? Remember to put on sun-screen, and don’t swim too far off the sea,” his mother advises caringly, and Slaine smiles back warmly at that.

“I will, Mama. Bye now!” Slaine answers excitedly as he finally opens the car door— heading out— and right before he slams the car door shut, his mother speaks again.

“Tell your dad I said hi!” his mother says as she ducks her head to look at her son, and Slaine smiles brightly at her then.

“I will. Love you!” Slaine says, and finally shuts the car door close. He walks around the car and towards the house— carrying his backpack and sling bag filled with all the necessities he needs for the next 9 days— and rings the doorbell. When his father finally walks out of the front door, he hears the car behind him driving off.

“How have you been, Slaine?” his father greets fondly, walking towards the gates to unlock them so he could let his son in. Slaine sends a bright smile at his father at that.

“All’s fine! Mom said hi!” Slaine answers back cheerfully, and his father chuckles at it. His father finally unlocks the gates, and when he opens it Slaine immediately walks in and gives his father an overwhelming hug.

“Oof! Woah there,” his father says and laughs, but still hugs his son back. When they both finally pulled apart, Slaine smiles up at his father yet again.

“How have _you_ been, Papa?” Slaine asks, and his father tries to give a long contemplating look.

“Hmm… Work is hectic as usual, but I guess with you here now, I won’t be getting anything done,” he answers back teasingly, and Slaine only wears an eye smile at the response.

His father shakes his head at that and pushes his son’s back, “Okay, come on now, I have breakfast in the kitchen. I know whenever you drop your bags at the house you’d run off to the sea— so you better not go to the beach with an empty stomach,” his father says as they both walk their way towards the front door.

Slaine had already eaten his breakfast before heading off, though; but he decided his father didn’t have to know that.

“I’m home,” Slaine says in a practiced manner as he takes off his shoes and heads into the house. He immediately drops his bags in the living room and makes his way to the kitchen— his father already sitting on the dining table, reading up some morning newspapers as he takes a bite of his egg bread.

Taking his own serving of egg bread and cup of milk, he walks towards the dining table and settles down onto one of the seats.

“I’ll eat well,” Slaine says, and finally takes a bite of his egg bread. Munching on his food, he takes his cup of milk and drinks it at the same time— but pauses when he realizes his father was eyeing him above the newspaper he was reading.

“I know you can’t wait to get to the beach and all that, but eat your food slowly. It’s not good to consume your food fast,” his father advises, and Slaine starts chewing his food slowly then, gulping his food down.

“Sorry…” Slaine says and sends a sheepish smile, and his father only closes his eyes, shaking his head fondly, and focuses his attention back to the newspaper he was reading.

“So, how are your results going?” his father then asks, and Slaine takes another bite of his egg bread before answering.

“I got 7th place in the whole school,” Slaine says, but then scrunches up his nose, “And I still don’t like physics.”

His father chuckles when he hears it, “Let me guess, out of all of your test papers, you got physics the lowest, am I right?”

Slaine’s lips forms a small pout, “Yeah…” he mumbles, sulking, and then takes another bite of his egg bread furiously this time, “Stupid physics and its logic…”

His father only smiles, and folds his newspaper then, putting it aside, “Well, 7th place in the whole school is still very good. Keep up the good work,” his father praises, but continues, “Though don’t let one subject bring you down. Everyone _has_ that one subject that they dislike deeply,” his father says to him in a fond way, and Slaine then tilts his head when a question comes up to his head.

“Papa, did you have a subject that you disliked?” Slaine asks curiously, and his father makes a pained expression at that.

“I hated history, to the very core,” his father tells him, and Slaine blinks, then lets out a snigger.

“You disliked history?” Slaine asks, trying to keep in his laughter, and his father replies back.

“I _hated_ history.”

Finally letting out a laugh, Slaine shakes his head, “But history is so easy,” Slaine declares, and his father nods his head in agreement at that, standing up from his chair.

“Yes, easy. But boring. Very, very boring. Zero entertainment,” his father affirms, and Slaine lets out another laugh. His father sends another fond smile at his son, and walks around the dining table to ruffle his son’s hair.

“Alright, I still have some work to do at my office. So if you need me, I’ll be there, okay?” his father informs, and Slaine nods his head multiple times then.

“Okay,” he answers back, and he sees his father walk his way towards the flight of stairs.

Finishing up his egg bread and cup of milk, Slaine quickly brings his crockery to the sink; washing them and wiping them dry, and putting them back into the cabinets.

After doing so, he heads his way to the living room, and takes out the sun-screen in his sling back; putting them on with quick movements, not able to suppress his excitement any longer. When he was finally done, he quickly takes his sling back and heads out of the house— though of course, not forgetting to take the spare house key that was hanging behind the front door.

Slaine immediately runs towards his way to the beach once his feet steps out of the house— clutching on his sling bag tightly so it doesn’t fall off his shoulders— and when he runs until he could feel the feeling of soft sand under his feet, he stops and takes his slippers off; and continues running, smiling as the scent of sea breeze rushes in his nose— wind blowing strongly at his face.

There was a secret spot he would always settle when he comes here. Slaine claims it a secret spot, because whenever he goes to the beach, there would be people playing by the sea, or resting on the sand— but there will never be anyone there at that certain place. Well, it _is_ quite understandable, since it isn’t really visible to the naked eye— as it is blocked by a big rock. Slaine guesses it can only be discovered, if you somehow decided to walk around the coast.

When he reaches to the big rock, he carefully walks on top of it— and as expected, when he looks below, there was sand and the small tides of the sea; deserted and no people at sight. Slaine looks back up and around then; it was early, probably 11am, so it was understandable why there weren’t much people at the beach at the moment. But there _were_ people, and Slaine smiles slyly at the fact that the spot he claims a secret spot was still a secret.

Sitting down on the rock, he slowly brings himself down, and finally his feet lands on soft sand again. He quickly walks towards the sea then— keeping a certain distance— and finally, dropping his bag and slippers down beside him; plopping onto the sand as he closes his eyes— just enjoying the scent of sea breeze, the light wind, and the sound of waves.

When he opens his eyes again, he takes out his phone and earphones from the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing; plugging them in, and wearing them on. He goes to play his ‘relaxing’ playlist then, and continues to close his eyes— finally at full ease.

Some time has passed probably— Slaine doesn’t know how long— but when he opens his eyes again, he takes sight of a seagull near him, and he gasps silently at the sight.

 _Oh my god_ , Slaine thinks as his eyes goes wide at the bird only a few meters away from him, and slowly— _real_ slowly, so he doesn’t startle the seagull and make it flee— he goes to take his phone on his lap, and flips the camera on; zooming in, and snapping a picture.

Right as he did, the seagull immediately flies off at the sound of the click of a camera snap, and Slaine lets out a breath of relief— relieved that he had taken a picture before it had the chance to fly away.

Immediately checking the picture at his photo gallery, his eyes sparkles— the picture was clear and perfect. Slaine then turns his head to his bag, and goes to unzip it— bringing out a book and a 2B pencil— and props his legs up; settling his phone on his left lap, and his sketch book on the other.

He then starts sketching.

༺༒༻

“Wah… It’s the beach!” Inko says happily as she takes a deep inhale at the foreign scent of the sea— her eyes shut tightly close. When she was done, she lets out a big exhale, and opens her eyes again. The next thing she does is flinging her arms around the girl standing beside her.

“Nina! From now onwards let’s always go visit your grandparents whenever it’s the holidays,” Inko exclaims in a whining tone then, and Nina only laughs at that.

“Hey, hey, come on girls. Let’s go before more people settles on the beach. It’s quite spacious right now for a good volleyball game,” Calm claims as he constantly plays with the volleyball in his hand.

Inko and Nina complies, and walks together with the other three boys then; and as the group walks nearer towards the sea, Okisuke turns his head towards Calm.

“Do we not need a netting?” Okisuke asks, and tilts his head, “And since there’s only the five of us, are we going to play three to two players?” Okisuke continues to question, and Calm looks at him as if he was dumb.

“No, of course not. That’s unfair play,” Calm declares, and continues, “And we don’t need a netting, we can just draw a line on the sand like this,” Calm says and stops walking— making a line on the sand with his feet. When he decided it was long enough, he stops and points his index finger towards Nina.

“Nina will be on my team, and Inko will be on Inaho’s. Okisuke, you’re the referee,” Calm instructs after pointing his index finger to all of his friends.

“Yes sir,” Nina and Inko both says in a bored tone, and Inaho only silently complies— a blank look on his face as usual. Okisuke frowns and purses his lips.

“Ehh… I want to play too,” Okisuke sulks childishly, and Calm rolls his eyes.

“You will. We just need someone to play the referee so they can judge who the winner is and who the loser is,” Calm explains, “We’ll be taking turns and switching places.”

Okisuke opens his mouth then and nods his head in understanding, and they all went to their positions after; Nina and Calm at one side, Inko and Inaho at the other— Okisuke stands at the end of the line, drawn on the sand earlier by Calm.

“Okay… Start!” Okisuke exclaims, and Calm serves the ball at the calling.

Apparently he had hit too hard, as it went flying far away.

Both Inko and Inaho stares as the ball went flying above their heads, and Inko turns her head furiously around to look back at the culprit.

“Calm!” Inko exclaims as she scowls, and Calm winces.

“Sorry~ ,” Calm says as he sticks his tongue out, one eye closed as he wears a smile on his lips. He brings his right arm up and flexes it, “These guns are too strong,” he continues and jokes, but Inko was having none of it— only frowning in disgust and scoffing; Nina only laughs at the silliness of her friends.

Inaho though, immediately turns around and goes to fetch the ball— jogging his way to the volleyball that had landed on a rocky ground. When he goes and picks it up, he stands on top of a rock, and he takes sight of the rock below; it seems there was a hidden place. There was sand and sea, but the area was small, and a lone person was sitting in the middle of the place. He had white hair, and had his bag and slippers beside him. He seems to be writing something on his lap— Inaho couldn’t see clearly.

He doesn’t know why, but he had a sudden urge to go down and join the latter— his interest suddenly piqued. And it was kind of absurd, really. Why would a random stranger writing something on his notebook make him intrigued?

“I-na-ho!” he hears someone shout from faraway, and he realizes it was Inko’s voice. Turning his gaze away from the boy, he turns his head around to look at his group of friends waiting for him to bring the ball back. He could see Inko waving her hand around.

“What are you doing? Hurry up!” Inko continues to shout, and Inaho turns around then— walking back towards her. When he finally reaches Inko, he hands the volleyball to her, and then turns his body back around— heading back to the same place where he had seen the white haired boy before.

“… Eh? Inaho! Where are you going!?” Inko asks— baffled as she sees Inaho’s retreating figure. Inaho pauses, and turns around to answer her question.

“I don’t feel like playing volleyball,” Inaho states only that, and then turns back around— continuing to head towards the rock. Inko only blinks multiple times in disbelief at the answer, and splutters.

“O-Oi! You can’t just ditch your friends!” Inko exclaims, but the man seems to ignore her— not answering as he continues to walk.

“What is it? Where’s he going?” Calm asks as he rests a hand on his waist, and Inko only huffs as she removes her gaze from Inaho’s walking figure.

“I don’t know. He said he didn’t feel like playing volleyball. Tch,” Inko says as her face scrunches up in discontent, and Calm heaves a sigh.

He turns his head towards Okisuke and gestures his head at Inko's direction, “Okisuke. Team up with Inko.”

“Eh? But then there won’t be a referee present,” Okisuke points, and Calm just waves his hand around.

“We don’t really need one,” Calm settles, and Okisuke blinks, then shrugs— walking towards Inko, and joining them for their game.

༺༒༻

Reaching the rock and standing on top of it again, he could see the boy was still below— sitting on the sand, and still writing on his notebook. Inaho wonders if he was a writer, or maybe something else.

He sits on the rock, and jumps off it. When his feet reaches the sandy ground, he walks up to the boy— and _ah_ , he sees what the boy was finally doing; he wasn’t writing, but he was drawing.

 _Quite a good artist too_ , Inaho notes, as he sees the other drawing a realistic art of a seagull.

Inaho moves and goes to settle down beside him, though keeping quite a distance. The boy doesn’t seem to realize he did, and this time Inaho could see his face clearly— well, not really, but he could get a glimpse of what he looked like.

The boy was unconsciously sticking his tongue out as he moves his pencil in gentle strokes— his brows furrowed in concentration.

Inaho thought it was cute.

And he doesn’t know what this new feeling is.

He turns his gaze away and looks at the sea in front of him. Away from the sounds of people playing at the beach above, it was quiet here; only the sounds of waves and tides could be heard. It was peaceful, calm, and Inaho closes his eyes.

 _This is a good spot_ , Inaho thinks to himself, and he takes in a deep breath— he never thought he would do so when he first came here. He didn’t really think much of it when Nina said her grandparents' place settles near a beach, and suggested that they should all go and spend their time there for the spring break.

But this, this he could deal with.

༺༒༻

Adding one last stroke to the art he was drawing, Slaine lifts his hand away and stares at his masterpiece— well, it’s not his best work, but there was satisfaction filling in his chest.

Putting his pencil down, he heaves a breath of content, and looks back up at the beautiful sea in front of him; he could still feel the sea breeze blowing lightly on his face and hair, and he feels his lips curving upwards.

As he looks around the place, he suddenly realizes a person sitting on his far right, and his heart jumps out of his rib-cage at the sudden sight of him. Slaine freezes as he stares at the man beside him— though there was quite a distance between them— and his eyes goes wide.

 _How long have I been drawing? And since when did this person appear?_ Slaine thinks as his mind whirls and whirls— blinking dumbly. The man had his legs sprawled out as both of his arms supports his upper body from lying on the sand— his eyes closed— and Slaine continues to blink and gape like a fish.

He closes his mouth though, when a thought comes to his mind.

 _I guess I’m not the only one who knows about this spot, then_ , Slaine thinks, and he tries his best to suppress the slight disappointment in his chest.

Slowly bringing up his hands to take off the earphones in his ears, he turns his eyes away from the man to continue looking at the sea; closing his eyes, and letting the scent of sea breeze calm him— the crashing waves, and the soft sounds of seagulls calling reaching to his ears. When he opens his eyes again, he turns his head to look at the man another time, but realizes that this time, the man’s eyes was no longer closed, but instead his face was now facing him— his eyes on Slaine.

Slaine could take in his features clearly then, and he looked young— probably his age— and if Slaine wasn’t mistaken, his eyes was filled with a burgundy colour. His black hair moves slightly with the wind blowing towards the both of them, and they both only continued to stare at each other for the next who knows how long.

Until, one of them decided to speak.

“You draw?” he suddenly asks, and when Slaine hears his voice, it made him feel something tingly in his stomach. Slaine blinks multiple times as he realizes the other was asking a question, and he gives an answer back.

“Eh?”

 _Wow, good going, Slaine. You’re officially an embarrassment_ , Slaine thinks to himself right after the word flew out of his mouth, and he shakes his head rapidly at his own feedback.

Before the man could repeat his question, Slaine continues to speak, “I-I mean, yes! I draw,” Slaine says, and wears a stiff smile. The boy only responds with a blank stare, and this situation couldn’t get any more awkward, Slaine thinks. He gulps as he stares back at the other, his smile still awkwardly in place, and really _why is this boy not saying anything my whole face is going to cramp by now god—_

“Can I see?” he finally asks, and Slaine blinks at the question in surprise— smile no longer on his lips.

“U-Um, yeah. Sure, why not,” Slaine stutters as he blinks multiple times, turning his eyes away to look at the book on his lap; and when he grabs it to hand it to the boy, he sees the other getting up from his spot— walking to sit right next to him, like _right beside him_. _Really_ close— okay, not _really_ , but still close. And Slaine blinks rapidly in puzzlement.

No, he wasn’t _blushing_. Why the hell would he be blushing?

When the boy settles himself comfortably next to Slaine, he takes out his hand— gesturing for the book to be placed on— and Slaine breaks off his trance. He turns his eyes to the book in his hands and then back to the boy next to him, and finally, hands the book to the other.

Receiving the book, the boy immediately stares at the piece of work he was just drawing a moment ago— and Slaine has no idea why, but he was nervous. Biting his lips, he continuously goes to touch his hands— a bad habit that developed whenever he was anxious. It’s stupid really, the fact that he’s feeling this way. It’s not like he’s unconfident about his art skills. His friends in school always praises how well he could draw— his parents too— but somehow, having this person next to him scrutinize his work makes him feel all edgy.

But, he also feels a slight anticipation of what the other has to say on his work. And Slaine swears, if the boy decides to keep quiet like how he had done just a moment ago, he  _will_ kick a puppy’s face.

Okay, he doesn’t really have the heart to do that. But still.

The boy beside him then flips through the pages— all the work he had done through the year drawn on the specific book— and he stops as he stares at one particular art.

It was a drawing of two black wings, and Slaine honestly did feel proud of that art piece. The shading was actually hard to master, but the result looked decent in the end; just exactly how he had expected it to look like.

Slaine could see the boy beside him squint a little— as he moves his fingers around the paper, touching the art. Slaine was about to think he didn’t like the drawing at all, when the boy finally speaks.

“Your drawings are really detailed,” the boy compliments. Slaine blinks, and then lets his lips tilt upwards— grateful for the other’s words. The boy continues, “They look… really realistic,” he finishes, and then continues to flip through other pages, always stopping for a long moment whenever a pair of wings was drawn in a random page.

“Ah, probably just the wings, though,” Slaine responds then, “I’ve been practicing them for years. Since I was 8, probably,” Slaine says as he purses his lips, tilting his head, “I’m trying to draw other things better at the moment,” Slaine then continues, and chuckles as he rubs his neck. The boy turns his head away from the book to look at Slaine in the eye.

“Is there a reason why you draw wings so much?” the boy bluntly asks, and Slaine blinks once, twice, and lets out a snicker.

“Uh… no. I guess I just… have a particular interest… in them?” Slaine says in a questioning tone, and then shrugs, his face scrunching up, “I don’t even know why I like drawing them so much.”

The boy doesn’t say anything at that, and turns his gaze away from Slaine— focusing his eyes back to the book in his hands. When he finally flips through all the pages, he goes back to the front page, and closes the book. He then sees something written at the edge of the front cover.

“Slaine Troyard,” the boy reads, and Slaine straightens his back when he hears him, blinking.

“Uh, yeah. That’s my name,” Slaine awkwardly responds, and slowly closes his eyes again in embarrassment. _Yes Slaine of course it is your name, you idiot_. He really felt like digging a hole right through the sand right now just so he could put his head in it.

Like an ostrich.

Yes, an ostrich.

Slaine thinks he’s going crazy.

_Why is he all restless around this guy?_

He continues to curse himself mentally— trying to fight the urge from knocking his own head— but stops when the boy beside him suddenly speaks.

“Inaho. Kaizuka Inaho,” the boy says in return, and turns his eyes away from the book to look at him again— and Slaine was taken off by surprise, _again_.

Processing the words in his head, and realizes _ah, is that his name?_ Slaine’s lips slowly forms into a grin.

“Are we really exchanging names?” Slaine asks teasingly, and lies his head onto his propped up knees— his arms now wrapped around his legs, “It’s not like we’ll meet again, right?” Slaine continues and sends a teasing smile, and the boy— _Inaho_ , only looks away at that; his eyes wanders as he stares at the moving sea waves in front of him.

“It’s not likely,” he finally answers, “But I have a feeling we will.”

Slaine’s playful smile gets wiped off at that, as he sees a small smile lying on the other boy’s lips. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling so surprised at the other’s smile.

Looking away and turning his eyes towards the sea too, he blinks as he feels something grow in his chest.

 _What is it?_ Slaine wonders, though he lets out a smile again— a gentle one this time— as he rests his chin on his knees.

“I guess so,” Slaine mutters in reply— and he doesn’t see it, but the boy beside him was no longer staring at the sea. He was staring at him instead, and the smile that was lying on Inaho’s lips grows a little.

Well, just a _little,_ wider.

༺༒༻

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_‘Cause even if we don’t meet again,_

 

 

 

 

 

_I’ll do whatever it takes to defy fate **one more time.**_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

༺༒༻

END

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahhhh it's done! I may have plans to continue with the story plot, but it will be a new story itself. Well, maybe, alright? I'm not gonna make any promises. But I do hope I will get to it though, because ;~; I love Slaine and Inaho a lot and I really want to write how they fall in love and this time, _properly_ , like grow old together and asdlkfjdlskfj. So we'll see. 
> 
> Please, do give feedbacks and reviews if you do have something to say! I don't mind critics, as it does help me improve my writing at the same time. (Or really, you could just key smash and I would still love it)  
> I'm so glad, like really glad, that i was able to finish this, and even write a sequel! Like wow. And honestly, this is all thanks to you guys for the support. ♥
> 
> Well then, I'll see you guys in the next InaSure fic! (maybe)
> 
> (and if there are any questions regarding to the story, do ask them! I'll be actively answering your comments from now on ^^)


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